When you're obesessive and complusive like me, trading on the market becomes a way of life. I study, I plot, I plan, I keep records galore. And then...after a fabulous bullish run, or a miserable bearish one, the weekend arrives.
Saturdays can be filled easily with grocery shopping, and all those chores you've neglected all week long. But Sundays....oh, my. I am not happy with Sundays. It's just a matter of waiting for the market to open again. And of course, praying that the great rally of last week will continue.
This is how I get things done. Whether it's publishing books, making quilts, painting abstracts, or writing a poem, I put my whole heart into it. I am recouping losses at the moment, and it feels really good to know I've learned my lessons well enough to be finally 'winning.'
But arghhhh, Sundays are so slow. This is when I really miss having a partner, a roommate, a human being to talk to. I live alone better than anyone I know, but there are those moments.
And it seems they always come on Sunday.