Even if I wasn’t a market professional with four hanging screens and a smartphone, tablet, and smartwatch, I took my trading seriously, I had to
Sometimes you don’t realize you’ve inhaled until you’ve released so much breath, you wonder where your lungs kept all that air since the markets closed on Friday at 4:00 PM.
Yossi crawled over and yanked at my skirt. I threw a few toys on the floor to distract him. Then I sank into my swivel chair, rubbed my palms over the armrests and mechanically ignored the ringing phone.
Green.
Green up arrows. On my newest watchlist, the one including the AMD positions that had automatically become mine when my trades got executed on Friday — and then drastically dropped a moment before closing.
That’s how it had stayed — frozen red — all through Monday morning at 9:30. My brain had continued working frenetically — even if the market closes, strategizing never ends, off-market trading keeps the pulse thumping — but still, as long as the market was closed, I’d held my breath, not even daring to breathe a word about it to Shmuli over the entire nerve-rackingly long weekend.
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