Wordle Mini-lament

Or lessons India has taught me

If you don’t play Wordle, perhaps this Sunday blog won’t resonate. But I stopped myself from posting the image of the actual word even though it was from Friday 13th. If you must know, as a subscriber you get to see what it was. I figure everyone has already done Friday 13th’s Wordle puzzle, wherever they are in the world:

Wishing you all the wondrous things that the Sunday night of a weekend just after school has finished in Australia may bring for you

And now, on with the Sunday Blog.

xxx

Sunday Blog 163 - Wordle Mini-lament

Up until this week I could’ve told you how many days ago I landed in India. 50. That was the day I missed Wordle by losing five hours and several layers of my stomach lining through the stress of actually flying there there. (You may recall the muffed visa, missed flight, nice man at Delhi airport putting me in a wheelchair and rushing me to my closing flight).

After unpacking and settling into my Rishikesh room I opened up the Wordle app. It whirred uncertainly for a while with the weak Indian internet. The circle of death stopped eventually, but the app told me I had a streak of zero. I shook my phone in despair, but it was immutable. In desperation, I did Wordle from the day before from the archive, just in case it magically reinstated my tally. It didn’t. By missing a day, I lost my impressive streak of around 120.

This week, I busted again. One of those easy words with way too many options broke my streak of 50. But it was a light and easy loss.

A little time to dwell on witnessing the Wordle wound. Reflecting that victimisation occurs (the person putting together the Wordle for 13th December choosing a word with way too many options) but victimhood is optional (linking the loss of my Wordle streak with my self-worth.)

India has already taught me about the perils of ego-driven reliance on Wordle streaks.

And so I am valiantly moving on.