It was a beautiful sunny south Florida day -an unusually pleasant April morning as a surprise cold front woke me up to a crisp new day. The day had finally come - after months of burning anticipation - I was ready to pull the trigger. Months of studying all the trade books, finance math, and ET posts had me feeling confident and juiced for my world trading debut. "Watch out world!" I said as I pulled up to the computer, ready to wreak havoc on the trading world. Before I began, I gazed out the window, soaking in the warm sunlight as a feeling of inner destiny overwhelmed me. It was my time. The patience and discipline of 5 grueling months were going to pay off, today. As I logged in, a confident grin forbode the prophecy I was to initiate. It was only a matter of time before my mug claimed the covers of all the hot trading mags, before scrumptious women lined my driveway, before Schwager tracked me down for an interview. I began to adlib in my imagination, answering his questions, revealing the deep secrets entombed in the tape all these years. Moments into turning the IB scanner on, I was drawn in by all the pretty little blinking lights. Up up up! Whoa! It was a flashing green money machine!! My demeanor suddenly changed. Never mind the months of testing and patience. Never mind all the advice from those feeble minded trading wizards - they were the analysts I was supposed to ignore, right?. Besides, I was supposed to come up with MY own system, right?? Besides, markets change, RIGHT??? After piling $10k into the herd, the stock suddenly stopped, dead. Hunh?? How could this happen?? Not now, NOT NOW! I've been waiting FOREVER for this day! This CAN"T happen. C"MON STOCK PUMP IT UP!!!!!...after an hour of screaming, pacing and cursing in a forehead-vein-poppng frenzy, I searchef for Zen parables. Stop, drop, and roll, right? "Everything is going to be allright.", I sniffled. Just as I was beginning to regain my composure, the dreaded occurred - the little freakin IB bell went off. Ding. I, yes I, was stopped out my on first trade. Gone, $100 bucks, gonzola, before my career ever had a chance. I knew I could win it back. My strategical fortitude would prevail. Patience, discipline, the will of a warrior - I had it all. I shook off the pain, polished off my mouse, and set forth to resume battle with the behemoth before me. A 6 hour uninterrupted losing streak left me $250 in the hole. Not a single win. Not one. My plan - down the drain - my money - down the drain - my, preparation, my plan, my edge - all down the drain - in a single moment. A cold realization overcame me. I had failed, miserably. My grand debut, a dismal failure. I was in shock. There I sat, a crushed hollow shell of a trader, in numbing disbelief. Suddenly it occurred to me - it hit me like a bolt of lightning - I was a moron. I, in all my vain glory had the nerve to believe I could predict Wall St history, for years to come. Yet I was inept to predict even my own future, for a single day. I, yes, I, a moron.