I’m writing this at 5:30 a.m. Why? Because my latest obsession woke me up an hour ago.
In January 2022, I was one of the millions instantly smitten with Wordle, the word clue game. At the time it was the perfect level of complexity-accessible enough to solve, but challenging enough I felt good about solving it.
Wordle and I had an amazing run, an almost daily rendezvous, for 18 months. It started with me so excited I’d push my bedtime so I could complete it right at midnight. Even though I knew it would get me wired, I couldn’t wait until the next morning to solve it. So I sacrificed sleep.
That stage only lasted a month or so, after which I transitioned to solving it in the wee hours of the morning. A dream or uncomfortable position would jolt me out of slumber, and before I could drift back off, I’d think “Wordle!” I’d grab my phone and solve it at 5:07 a.m., thus waking myself sufficiently that I couldn’t get back to sleep.
As my passion flickered, Wordle slid down my schedule, from solving it over breakfast to a late afternoon work break, and finally into the evening. Occasionally, I’d forget altogether.