I lie in bed scanning over sources of dopamine on Instagram, Facebook, and Threads. I am hoping to nurture a brief sleep before 4 a.m. here, on the Pacific, as the hours before the news start flooding in from the East Coast financial schedule. I will get some rest after the morning rush and the market opens. I scan the morning influx from political, sociological, financial, economic, and scientific perspectives. Anything that can affect the daily market cycle. Traders are squeamish. I find myself whispering to myself that I am a different breed, as data suggests I have the stomach to ride out the fluctuations and trust my analytical presence in this financial game. I remain steady, regardless of whether the market rises or falls. My wife is knocked out next to me, turning over and begging me to get some sleep. I tell her why this morning that isn’t possible because of some event in the financial world I must prepare for, and before I finish my sentence, I hear the purrs of her breath as she glides off under my voice. I rise to electrolytes, two boiled eggs, a banana, and my vitamin regimen, which is suited for stomach comfort, detoxification, energy, and my regular doctor-prescribed regimen. I turn on my high-powered computer, which powers up instantly as my monitors catch up to the already loaded Windows screen. Excel opens, and my portfolio opens on my browser, along with ChatGPT and MSN Money. I begin my journey with fractals and datasets, aiming to achieve a lower level of extravagance compared to the financial giants in our industry, with the hope of one day finding financial security that allows me to rest my head in peace for hours. In the end, would I even rest, or would I keep chasing? I wonder as the world passes me by and I sit on my throne, which, when zoomed out, isn’t even visible as it is buried under the never-ending cloud of analysts, traders, brokers, gurus, masterminds, scientists, engineers, and highly valued graduates in the financial world.