Let the bodies hit the Quordle

I've been playing Wordle for about a month and a half now. Sometimes I stay up to play it when the day ticks over at midnight. Sometimes I go to bed at a more sensible hour and play it when I get up in the morning, along with my AARP daily brain games. On average, I can solve it in four guesses. I've also discovered Quordle. I don't play the daily game there. I play multiple practice games, which is an option that I hope improves my proficiency at Wordle. Firstborn sent me a link to Heardle, which is involves guessing a song that has been streamed frequently in the past ten years. I got lucky on the first attempt. It was Fleetwood Mac's "Dreams," and that was pure luck. Since classical music is highly unlikely to be frequently streamed in the past ten years, except by me, the game lost its charm shortly thereafter.

My two eldest had been concerned that the succession of symptoms I've been experiencing for months was symptomatic of long-Covid. They expressed this to me over Marco Polo. I was able to reassure them that I do not have, nor have I apparently ever had, Covid in any of its forms. (For which I am profoundly grateful.) I told them that it is more likely that my mind or heart or spirit is attempting to gain and keep my attention, based upon what I'm learning in When the Body Says No. At which point Firstborn snorted because of a thought that occurred to her and texted me this link:

Which I naturally found hilarious. Particularly since it's been a good week for steady productivity at work, until yesterday when, after an adequate night's sleep, I fought sleep all day long. And when I went to bed earlier this morning, after solving today's Wordle, I slept until nearly 1:00pm, sorting through all manner of weird dreams involving work projects that made no sense whatsoever with an attached Augean Stables level of intensity.

That, I attribute to having watched the first three episodes of "House" last night. Yeah, I'm late to the party, and I close my eyes through the parts that involve slicing or bodily fluids. I'm just there to enjoy the dysfunctional relationships and the snark. It appears that it dovetails nicely with the healing process.

Who knew?