Dear Diary: Another dull day. We were up this much on the bid, down that much on the ask, wave after wave, day in and day out, but still nothing but water in every direction! Under the average daily volume again, which was trumped up by those dastardly MMs to begin with, or so Patch says. He is doing his best to keep everyone preoccupied, and we all appreciate it, but every now and then...and these damned certificates just sit here! Nothing! I talk to them, pet them, take them for walks, and yet nothing! I even tried putting two in a box and poking holes in the lid for air. Next day, still just two certs. Figure they're either sterile or gay. Oh well.
We survived "the last-Wednesday-of-the-month" with nary a notice, and even pulled out a small increase on "the-last-Thursday-after-the-last-Wednesday." Tomorrow is "the-last-Friday-after-the-" well, you catch my drift. Rumors beget rumors. Press releases blowing just over the horizon, switches waiting to be switched, contracts waiting to take ramps to promised lanes to riches, boats landing on distant shores, prices that we will never see again, or at least until the next price swing. It's the same damn thing day in and day out! Oh, how I long to see land!
And some of my shipmates, well, I better not be too specific lest they discover you, Dear Diary <some have scurvy!>. The acerbic yet imminently harmless Frenchman keeps up his occasional drool, followed by the equally-predictable boil-over from good old Peg-leg. Captain Ahab has tried to keep the crew fired up, but alas, even he (she?) appears to have run out of steam. We receive the ritual where-we-should- be-now reports from the crow's nest with little notice, resigned to the fact that today's potential revenues may be tomorrow's cast-offs. Ah, tomorrow! To think that, by this time, I was hoping that we wouldn't even be thinking about "tomorrow" and DCI with the same synapse! I must confess, I can't help but be a little nervous. So many "ifs" lurking across the Atlantic, where the hordes are buying wireless phones at a million-per-month clip, and the Y2K pirates are hiding in many an embedded telecom chip, etc. Nevertheless, Dear Diary, I am still convinced that the Good Ship Murphy is pursuing a course that will eventually lead to the thus-far elusive X on the map (you know, the wrinkled one with the burnt edges).
But alas, Dear Diary, I am still long, as we say, and committed to hanging in there until the day we hear the long-promised clarion call to lower the boats and cast ashore! Till we meet again... |
