Given the acres of newsprint that have been devoted to the arrival of the euro this week I imagine that everyone must be almost as tired of it as we are. No one more tired than the support staff who had to spend most of the so-called holiday season grappling with the problem of creating the little euro symbol on their computers. The conversion process was easy, it's trying to create a little squiggly E on every single word processor and computer that's painful. Particularly if you might only need to use the damned symbol once in a blue moon. Obviously my computer doesn't have the euro sign, so I'm going to have to type the bloody word every time!

I didn't spend the break glued to the television for yet more interviews with people who would have preferred to be at home, but I did spot an old Central Bank colleague, Frank Swords, doing the last deutschmark/Irish trade on December 31st. Frank reminded us that the Irish pound has only been in existence for 20 years. And I remember the doom-laden warnings about breaking the link with sterling back then - it'd never work, we'd never be able to export to Britain, businesses would collapse - pretty much the same kind of stuff as we've heard ever since monetary union became closer to reality. Most of the protests are so predictable and boring that it was refreshing to see a different kind of protest when the Dutch Finance Minister was hit in the face with a custard pie. Childish, maybe.

But more fun than endless tracts about loss of sovereignty. As it turned out, Monday was a pretty average day in financial markets. It didn't take long for people to adjust to asking for euro rather than Irish, and most just cast a cursory eye over the euro exchange rates. I'm sure the ECB people were relieved to see the currency trading strongly at the off, something nobody was too sure about a few months ago. At NCB, we took the day in good spirits. My colleagues on the equity desk returned from the Stock Exchange sporting waistcoats emblazoned with the euro logo - which made them look like crosses between lost station-masters or snooker players who'd wandered into the wrong building. Another of my colleagues wore a tie emblazoned with world flags. Rather unfortunately, however, the only European flag seemed to be that of the French. Still, it was the thought that counted.

I had intended to buy something appropriate myself for the advent of the euro so I took my credit card for a walk through the sales last week. The predictions for growth in the Irish economy are still strong and so was the woman who whipped the last pair of shoes in my size from the rack in front of me. Oh well.

I saw lots of "sales assistants wanted" signs in the shops too. It's a very alien concept to realise that other European countries actually have higher unemployment rates than us now. It doesn't seem that long ago since many of my friends high-tailed it across the channel and sent back messages that the pavements, if not made of gold, were a damn sight better than the ones at home. But not anymore. In the spirit of European unity (and to keep the economy tilting at a level that will bring Maurice O'Connell out in a rash) I bought boots from Italy, trousers from Germany and a couple of tops from Britain. (Well, I know they're standing on the sidelines but their economy is halfway down the toilet so I was being charitable.)

I did, honestly, want to buy something Irish but regretfully all of the Louise Kennedy suits I looked at were sized for people who celebrated the festivities on spring water and celery rather than those of us who had put our intention to go to the gym every day on hold yet again. I must point out that the gym thing is not a new year's resolution. I am against these on principle. The going to the gym promise is one I make myself every morning when I step out of the shower. I remember last year wishing for a number of things for the IFSC in 1998. More bars, restaurants, shops and seats around the dock were on my list. Things move slowly even in this so-called fast lane.

It looks like the only things that actually materialised were a couple of extra seats. And they weren't much use because summer last year was too cold to spend sitting in a wind corridor. I'm not sure that wishing for the same things in 1999 will be much use, but it would be really good to see Stack A finally put to some kind of constructive use. Plus ca change and all that sort of thing but once again derivatives hit the news as a futures trader in London managed to amass trading losses of more than £36 million (45.7 million). Derivative traders losing a packet seem to pop up with monotonous regularity every year and, although none has managed to be quite as spectacular as Nick Leeson, they all have the same problem of not being able to cut a loss. Doubling up is the kiss of death for most of them and that is, of course, what John Ho Park appears to have done. It looks as though two futures firms have gone under because of Mr Park's losses.

Apparently Mr Park rang his mother and told her that he'd "made a mistake". Akin to the lookout in the Titanic murmuring that he thought they'd scraped something. The thing about derivatives is that they are truly great hedging instruments, but most full-blooded traders think that they're a damn good way of placing a mega-bet without having to lay down too much cash. Well, yes, if you get the bet right.

My only prediction of 1999 - I will not talk about volatile equity, currency or bond markets - is that someone else will lose money in an unauthorised derivative trade and the regulators will wring their hands and wonder how it could have happened. Oh, and there will still be acres of print about the euro and why it's (a) brilliant or (b) a complete disaster. And then we'll move on to the millennium bug . . .

Sheila O'Flanagan is a fixed-income specialist at NCB Stockbrokers.