I came to have such a deep disdain for the job that I held that I had imagined the day when I would walk in to the office and give the boss man my two-week notice, and then walk out in a blaze of glory. I would come in with one of those 1980s' boom boxes mounted on my left shoulder with Johnny Paycheck's classic Take This Job and Shove It blaring so loudly that everyone would be able to hear it.
I would walk in and slap my resignation on the desk of the boss man and utter a Jim Cramer–like expression such as “Booyah Skeedaddy!” The buildup in my mind created a far more anticlimactic reality when that day finally arrived.
Coming to a final decision was not something that happened overnight—not by a long shot. It was more or less a process where if I was a pot of water on the stovetop, the temperature kept rising and rising to where I started boiling over. This is the point where the choice became more out of necessity and not out of a sudden revelation that came to me. The realization of my future as a full-time trader had dawned.
I had a lot of self-doubt to deal with as well. I was not sure if I could make it as a full-time trader or whether I would generate the necessary income that I set out to achieve. Having a paycheck that consistently comes in on the first and fifteenth of every month systematically is something that I have very much grown to appreciate since leaving the workforce. While I ...