COLUMN: Wordle

I'm late. I should've had this column written and put to bed a half hour ago. Instead, it's 1:05 a.m. and I'm just now tippy-typing away.

I'd like to say I'm running behind because I'm an exciting person doing exciting things. Truth be told, I'm running late because I just spent the past 35 minutes of my wasted life pointlessly trying to guess a 5-letter word.

Wordle is evil and has plagued our fragile earth for too long. It must be stopped. 

Unless you live under a rock, and unless that rock has lousy wi-fi, you should know what Wordle is by now. The popular online puzzle game has gone viral out of nowhere and suddenly the whole world's obsessed with 5-letter words. The brainchild of software engineer (and apparent masochist) John Wardle, Wordle's daily puzzles are just perfect for those of us who like to augment our morning cup of coffee with anguishing mental torture.

The premise is simple: Each day, players get six attempts to correctly identify a random five-letter word. With each guess, Wordle will tell you: (a) which letters of your guess are NOT in the word of the day, (b) which letters of your guess ARE in the daily word, but are in the wrong position, and (c) which letters you've guessed correctly in the correct position. Given this information, you have six tries to correctly identify the word of the day. That's all there is to it.

There's only ONE Wordle puzzle per day, and every player around the globe gets the same puzzle, so don't spoil the daily answer for anyone unless you're willing to face the harsh wrath of the online masses. Wordle makes it easy to share your daily score on social media -- so now when I log onto Facebook, half my feed is taken up by people posting Wordle scores.

The first time I played, I correctly identified the Wordle of the day in TWO guesses. "Oh wow," I thought to myself. "I'm really good at this. Clearly, I am skilled and gifted at word puzzles. Let me share these results so as to impress my friends and followers with my clear genius." For 24 hours, I loved Wordle.

Then I played the next day. My first guess didn't contain ONE correct letter. My second guess revealed there was a "U" and a "K" in the word. By my fourth guess, I was desperate. "Is it CRUNK?" (It was not.) Umm, Is BRUNK a word? (It is not.) Is FRUNK a word? (No. But, let's be honest here, it absolutely should be.)

That second day, I swear to you I stared at my phone for almost a half hour, sweat dripping from my forehead. At one point, I yelled into the open air and sent various cats flying out of the room. Eventually, I threw my phone on the couch and stomped off to fold laundry, which I'm pretty sure is the adult equivalent of taking my ball and going home.

I'm finally coming to terms with the ugly truth: I am really, really bad at Wordle. Turns out it was PURE LUCK that first day when I got the word in two tries. Most days, it takes me 5 or 6. Some days, I can't get it at all. 

I can only assume Josh Wardle created this game in hopes of giving people a fun, relaxing brain-teaser to take their mind off things. Instead, it's daily torture that raises my blood pressure and drives me neurotic. Why am I terrible at this game? I'M A WRITER. I've typed a kajillion five-letter words in this column alone. Ooh, wait -- is ALONE today's Wordle? Nope. ARRRGH.

Why am I playing this daily nightmare? I don't find it enjoyable in the slightest. I find it maddening. But I'm doing it because all my friends are doing it and I have to post my stupid score to Facebook every stupid day. I have enough quite enough fear in my life as is. Now I get to add the fear of dying in my sleep and the police discovering my corpse next to seventeen pieces of scrap paper filled with 5-letter words and the one cop will turn to the other and go, "Yep, we got us a lunatic" and THAT will be my legacy.

"Here lies Shane... he was really frunking bad at Wordle."