63 days ago I started playing Wordle.
For 62 days I managed to guess the word correctly.
That streak came crashing down the same night that the Oscars chose violence, and thankfully I was too shook by that to care much about Wordle.
I’d been mentally dreading this day (and jokingly tell friends I’d tentatively scheduled an extra therapy session for when it finally happened) but maybe I’d prepared myself without even realizing it. To get four out of five letters on the first try seemed a good omen, but each and every try after that proved elusive.
Still, it feels like a respectable loss, and the world needs to be better about losing.
It also frees me up to miss a Wordle now and then – the beauty of breaking with tradition.
Back to Blog
