First, there was the sourdough starter and the dalgona coffee, true palliatives against the trauma of not finding flour, toilet paper and pasta at the supermarket. And after two years, during which we went through the Evergiven, the Metaverse, Gamestop, NFTs and the general dereliction of democracy wherever you look, we are finally in the age of Wordle; or for connoisseurs, in the age of Weirdle, the presumed collective noun to describe all other peculiar Wordle derivatives.

But we might need a new hobby to define the next age soon. For, after our little Carnaval adventure a few weeks ago, cases have unsurprisingly climbed again. And although we have somehow become perversely immune to numbers which would have been alarming not too long ago, one thing is for certain, some form of difficulty, be it another variant or a version of lockdown, have usually followed spikes thus far.

This current spike was especially noticeable because it affected nearly everyone in my immediate surrounding, at home, among friends and at work, and even me. But after a good run evading it for two years, we perhaps ran out of luck. These days, it takes more than mere active effort to avoid catching COVID because it seems the powers around have decided for us already.

So, from my self-isolation perch, as the final stretch of the PhD begins, I can only wonder what future plans will be inconvenienced or outright fouled by COVID next, for it is still the most important five-letter word out there and it will certainly outlive our Wordle hype.