You wouldn’t know it by my daily commentary, but 2018 was a dreadful year for Le Fly. Professionally, I’m fine and will always be fine. My genetic make up ensures that I thrive and continue heading higher. But life has a way of surprise raping you when you least expect it — which is why it’s called a surprise in the first place.
My best friend growing up killed himself and a very close family relative of mine was diagnosed with brain cancer. These are the two things that placed a shroud of melancholy on my year. I am grateful for my health and the people who love me — but it’s very hard to walk the black dog sometimes. I am prone to brood, often disappointed and infrequently pleased with outcomes.
Life marches on, with or without me. The things I hate the most sometimes become endearing to me, such as downward spiraling stocks and political upheaval. I’ve concluded long ago that I enjoy chaos and function best inside a razing fire.
One of my goals for 2019 is to help others manage their affairs better, specifically people from the interwebs. You rarely disappoint me and I love the banter, the back and forth between total strangers, whizzing throughout the trading day with zero fucks given. Who would’ve thought I’d give up managing money in real life for The Pelican Room, filled with drug addicts and gluttons for pain?
For this evening, as always, I’ll be at home with the family. I’ll eat a rib roast and consume wanton amounts of champagne. I don’t drink pretentious champagne, just Moet — because it’s dry and wonderful. I’ll make a lot of noise and play music loudly, and then sink into the couch and watch teevee. I’ll be dressed to the nines, clean shaven, and polished — optimistically welcoming in another year that might be filled with incomparable glory and winship — because I’m aspirational and want the best out of life.
Don’t we all?
Happy New Year’s everyone and thanks for reading.
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