Anticipation overwhelms. This I write a day ahead of time. But why when I still have to wait two days? I like to enjoy waking up on the first of every month knowing that I have another completed month of 100 words. Tainting that feeling is so easy, but I must refrain. I must, I must, simply to get the full dose of feeling what I feel every first of the month. Repetitive. I want to look. Shut your eyes. Shall I just cheat? No, it’s not as if I have anything profound to read. It’s all mundane, I’m sure.