as the sun set on another evening in fidi, i couldn’t help but wonder: was my focus on collecting the spread, spreading me too thin?
I couldn't help but wonder: after trading commodities for so long, had I become one myself?
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was i okay getting bought and sold over and over, just for a little security?
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It was my dirty little secret; I liked the regular cash rolling down, and boy, big can tango. But at what price?
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