Investing For The Future

I’ve always thought of myself as someone that can spot trends, and as such have long been keen to try investing.

The only reason I didn’t before was a lack of capital.  When you get charged like £12 to buy shares, then you cannot really be investing £100.

My Easynet redundancy money had been sitting in my account, and I had managed not to spend it during my subsequent period of unemployment.  We are only talking 4 figures – nothing crazy – though that is a lot to me.  My, erm, life savings.

And then last January, I read in The Economist about a chip-maker called Infineon Technologies, that was trying to develop the next generation of computer chips, hoping to re-establish or even better Moore’s Law.  They were £16 a share back then but I was unemployed, and didn’t dare.

In September, I bought some at £21 a share.  They quickly went up to £23 a share, so I bought more – I put most of my savings in them.  They then rose to £25.50 quickly – easy money I thought, though they were volatile, and I could easily gain £300 one day, lose £300 the next.

Alas over Christmas, they went down substantially – though I was still breaking even.  Then in January they rallied, back up to £25.50 on my birthday – I thought about selling and taking the profit, it was around £600 – I knew how volatile they had become.

And then they plummeted.  From 10% gain to 10% loss in a few weeks.  Fuckity – and I couldn’t even blame Brexit.

I had bought some shares in another company, Valeo, that produce parts for self-driving cars.  Their share price also plummeted to around 12% down at the same time.

This is despite both companies delivering healthy revenues and really good profits.  From looking into it further, it is the weakness of the dollar that is causing the problem with their respective share prices (they are both European companies that export lots).  How was I to know?  Clearly professional investors didn’t know either, otherwise they wouldn’t have sold when their profits were announced.

I have concluded that I have bought at the peak of the market.  Half of me wants to get out before I lose more, but the other half wants to stick, because I do believe in the company’s potential – Infineon at least.

It is a lesson learnt.  But not at all off-putting – I have considered buying shares in both Norweigan and Nvidia earlier this year (not enough money), which have respectively jumped 40% and 20% since I considered them.  I have also considered buying shared in Facebook and Tencent which have remained broadly flat since I considered.  So I am not overly dumb – just not in control of all the information.

I’ve also got quite into crowd-funded investments, but just doing small £100 investments.

So far I have invested in a company called Movem, which are a passporting system for renting – something I’ve long wished for, a Chinese food delivery company called Zing Zing – and the company I work for, Lovespace.

This weekend, I’m considering investing in The Five Points Brewery Company, who seem increasingly on-point and there is definitely money in good beer, and Own The Look, who are apparently the next ASOS but their clothes seem too expensive to me and occasionally a bit out-there – certain for mass-consumption, but what do I know, I’m a man.  Any women reading want to tell me what they think, I’d be grateful.

What would Donald Trump do?

Anyway, I’m enjoying it, despite losing – it isn’t money I cannot afford to lose, and even if you had invested in the stock market at previous peaks, you still would make more money than any other common investment.

Crappy Little Day

Well that was a crappy little day.

I woke up late, and tired.  Drinking Red Bull and eating shit food from the off.

I’ve said it before, but being fat is the one thing guaranteed to make me miserable, and putting on weight when eating healthy and doing some exercise like I did at the weekend has triggered me off on a run of eating lots of shit – approx 4,000 calories a day.  As opposed to 1,500 a day last week when I was happy…or a least content.

So, of course I’ve put even more weight on and am even more pissed off – 3kg since Sunday.  There is no reversing this any time soon either.  I’m stuck in a bad pattern and it will take a few days to start reversing it.

I just about made it through the day despite being my frustration bubbling under the surface…I did nearly snap at someone at work which would have been terribly unfair of me…then I snapped on the way home with another fucking Metropolitan line delay.

So I bought some wine.

And then I burnt my dinner.  So I cooked twice as many potatoes to make up for it, and to make myself fatter.  Plus had a load of chocolate and will have some more.

And then I had yet more problems trying to set up this website that I am making for someone…who’s hosting company is just fucking useless.  But is so frustrating me.  I’ve wasted hours just trying to install WordPress on a server…it should take 5 minutes.  And this is over the course of two weeks.  I just want to get it finished so I can get the remaining invoice paid.  Not that I am going to be able to spend and enjoy the money as my shares are down.  Way down.

On my birthday they were £500 up.  Now I’m £600 down.  Most of it due to Donald fucking Trump.  Maybe they’ll go back up – they have done before, but they’ve never been this far down and market sentiment seems bad.  The economy really doesn’t look rosy.

I will need to recoup my losses somehow, so it may mean having to have a budget of £100 one month, just eat carrots and stuff like that.  No roast dinners.  I am going to have to start cancelling plans soon.  Bang goes the idea of going on holiday.  Not that I have anyone to go with anyway…though I’m kind of used to spending time by myself…I barely even spoke to anyone all Easter weekend.  I spoke to my parents on Friday, but the only other people I spoke to all weekend offered me a receipt.

Also I am fed up of working my arse off and still struggling.  I appreciate that I am not the only one.  I didn’t relax properly all weekend as I was worried about the website for the company I work for, given that we’ve had problems in the week before.  I was technically on call – though escaped until late evening on Monday without having to do anything but testing.

Maybe I need to find some new friends.  But I don’t have any time to spend with them anyway, as I need to spend my weekends working to make enough money.  And I don’t even bother trying with Tinder any more.

And then I’m nearly 40.  I have no house – never will own a house.  No girlfriend, no wife, no kids, very little pension.  I’ve barely seen any of the world.

I don’t expect sympathy – that would piss me off.  I appreciate that millions, if not billions of people across the world have things harder than me but that just pisses me off more because why can I not be happier?  Why am I not a source of joy?  People used to remark about how happy I was – granted some of them lived in Bracknell.  I don’t get that any more.  I don’t seem to laugh very often either.

I probably won’t sleep well tonight now, and I am not happy about my standard of English throughout this blog post.  It barely flows, the paragraphs are so simple in construction, though I guess it gets to my hidden raw frustrations and emotions more.

Or maybe it is just half a bottle of red wine talking.

There’s also a small chance that I may have fucked my liver up and will never be able to drink again.  I cannot see that being the case but it worries me.  As I don’t enjoy life enough without alcohol to give it up permanently.  I’m probably worrying about nothing here, but hey.

At the end of the day, to make the English fucking worse, I need to sort my financial situation out.  I feel significantly underpaid, and cannot keep working the longest hours I ever have, plus longest commute that I’ve ever had, at the lowest wage I’ve had in 10 years, whilst having to do work on the side at the weekend, and pretending that London is amazing even though I never have the time or money to do anything.  I’m fat, ugly, lonely and skint, I’m fed up of these short but increasingly frequent miserable bouts.  It all kind of swims around in the same dis-virtuous circles, as now I’ll be tired tomorrow and repeat the same circle of eating shit food, drinking Red Bull and feeling crap, put more weight on and be more pissed off.  At some point that will break, I’ll sort myself out then realise I’m skint and be miserable, then at some point start eating loads of shit again.

I was hoping to have a holiday in June but I guess I’ll just be repaying the money I lost on my stupid fucking investment.

At least I’m having a pie tomorrow night.

It seems like I’m always writing about being miserable, but a quick look at my recent posts suggests that isn’t the case.  Though I don’t actually post everything I write, believe it or not.

I’ll post something more cheerful next time.  Sorry.

Detox Is Over

So it finishes.  3 months without alcohol.  Finished already.

I almost feel a little sad about it.  It’s like the end of a holiday.  I expected to jump up and down in excitement about the upcoming retoxification, but nah.  I feel very nonplussed about it.

My 3 month detox was on doctor’s advice.  There is nothing wrong with my liver per se, but it needed a reduction of the fat content otherwise there was a good chance that there would become a problem.

I’ve had my blood test today and now await the results.  Hopefully the doctor will say “party on”, or words to that effect.  Though the other realistic possibility will be that he says that it hasn’t improved as much as he expected and I need another 3 months off…I cannot see that being the case but worth being mentally prepared for.

Going out and not drinking isn’t particularly easy, especially in the evening or when there is loud music. For a Sunday roast, which seems to be the majority of my socialising now, I’m not that bothered.  Sure it is nice to have a glass of red with a nice roast, but I can take it or leave it.

I’m also not bothered about having a drink at the end of the working week – I was always quite happy just to go home.  A few years ago I had to have a drink on a Friday.  A few years before that I had to be fucked off my face as soon as humanly possible come the end of the working week (or quite often the Thursday night as I just couldn’t wait).

Which shows that I have gone from being pretty needy of alcohol some years ago, to not that bothered now.  At least in terms of need.

But I miss the feeling.  I miss the taste – a good pint of beer tastes so much better than a pint of apple juice, no matter how refreshing apple juice can be on occasion…like after a really heavy session.

Even more than that, I missed sausage rolls.  And bacon sandwiches.  And chorizo…I could labour the point but I think you understand.  I was also advised to cut down red meat, if possible.  Which I did – bar roast dinners.  And boy, the amount of times, especially at first, when I craved a sausage roll.

Believe it or not, I lost some weight.  Around 6kg from my peak in the new year.  I was aiming for 9kg, but I guess that was quite ambitious.

I did a lot of admin.  Sorting out music, going through piles of paperwork, clearing up old e-mails, fixing things on my blogs and websites that have been on my to-do list for over a year.

I saved money.  Well, I paid off my overspending from December, paid for a holiday that I’ve agreed to go on but wouldn’t have been able to afford otherwise, and bought a new phone outright.

I also got my first full-on website client, and produced a website for him.  Just waiting for his hosting company to pull their fingers out of their backside and fix a technical issue with my client’s account and it will be live.

Shit got done these last 3 months.

I was almost exactly as happy.  I keep a count of my happiness rating every day, and averaged 5.003571 for March this year compared to 4.992857 for March last year (when I was drinking).

And I have been told that I look brighter.  I was hoping that I’d feel 21 again, but alas, I don’t.  I still get tired at times, especially if I have been consuming caffeine.

So, as it is my first post-detox evening so what am I drinking?

Summer fruits squash.  As normal.

I had a sausage roll for lunch to celebrate, just a cheap Sainsburys one and I cannot say it was that good.  I would have enjoyed a salad more.

And now I have just cooked myself some pork fillet in a BBQ sauce.  It wasn’t that special – I overcooked the pork.  I am particularly looking forward to a bacon and egg sandwich, but that can wait until the weekend.

Alcohol can wait too.  I did consider buying some beer for tonight, but I’ve got loads on at work at the moment, and could do without an unnecessary fuzzy head.

Don’t worry, I haven’t become a Jehovah’s Witness or anything.  I have booked myself a table for a celebratory pie at Piebury Corner.  They serve beer.  Thursday evening after work – you can come if you want.

Normal service then resumes.  Pending doctor’s further advice.

And my taking notice of it.

I might do this 3 month detox again one year.  It was alright.

I Have Joined A Gym

Yes, you read correctly.

I have joined a gym.

I figured that as I am nearly 40, exceptionally unattractive to women and still absolutely desperate to have multiple children – preferably to different women but the same one will do I guess, I should really do some critical analysis of why this is.

The question that I have been asking all year to myself after 1000’s of unreciprocated right-swipes is why am I not attractive to women.  I mean, I have a mullet, after all.  And don’t forget the shiny green meggings.

So I changed my gender on Tinder to female, and started looking through men’s profiles.  And realised that I was clearly missing something.  Pictures of my muscles in very tight t-shirts.

Believe it or not, and I know I wouldn’t, but I’ve had my induction training, paid my £500 annual fee in advance which is just such exceptional value – and I am lifting.  Lifting.  LIFTING I tell you.

Shortly I will be a #properrippedbro

Power to The Winfield.

I shall also be listening to infinite amounts of tech-house going forwards and doing fist-pumps whenever possible.  Yeah, Moorgate station – fist pump time!  No I don’t have a Nectar card – fist pump time!  Hull City AFC have conceded another goal – fist pump time.  Yeah!

Right I’m off down the gym again – haven’t been for 3 hours.  I shall post some gym-selfies later with my new bro’s.  Yeah!  Fist pump, baby.

Anyone got any roids?