The New York Stock Exchange opened up with a decent amount of energy. There was all the little fakeouts and the stuttersteps but in the end, for what I have come to expect out of the market, the NYSE did what it was going to do and it was a better job than what I had expected. I forgot to mention yesterday because I was on the verge of dying from lack of sleep that I saw an article in yesterday’s journal stating that Lean Hogs rose like 80% because of the American demand for bacon. My friends and I probably account for probably 100 basis points of that rise given how much we’ve been eating this summer. But I digress.
The reason I titled this post “a bucket of hagfish” is because that’s what the market has been feeling like to me. If you don’t watch those documentaries on Animal Planet, hagfish are these eel-like organisms that latch onto dead sea animals and pretty much suck the meat out of their carcasses. Even though that may be an apt representation of the markets – and for trading in general – I compare the market to hagfish because they are also slippery as f*ck. If you see the people trying to hold onto one of those things out of the bucket, the slime that they have on their body is so much that nobody can really get a firm grip on them. This is exactly what trading the cash open has been like for me. I was only lucky this morning because with all the stuttering the market did, it didn’t do it quickly, so I had time to think about the impending doom that was about to happen to my PnL if I didn’t act quickly enough. And act quickly, I did getting myself out for a whole bunch of break even trades. I only had one more trade in the morning which was Wheat and that didn’t do all that much. I think netted like 3 or 4 ticks out of it for my default size.
Even though today was another one of those slippery days, I always say that it’s better to be lucky than smart in this market as intelligence in this dumb business is dubiously subjective and there’s really no correlation between that and a green PnL. I’m really grateful to the man upstairs that I am enabled with the discipline to not go and overtrade and beat the crap out of the precious capital that I have in this account. That’s all I have, capital; either monetary or emotional and once I’m out of either one, trading becomes an impossible endeavor. I don’t want to go to bed depressed.
I want to go to bed happy and full of bacon – and vegetables.