I’m Addicted to "Words with Friends"

My name is Irene...and I'm addicted to Words with Friends. It started out innocently with a request from someone named Patty who emailed to see if I wanted to play the game with her. I had met her online through a mutual friend; she lives in Boston and I live in New York.

Words with Friends is a Scrabble-like game that can be played asynchronously on an iPhone, iPad, iPod touch, Android device, or on a computer. An estimated 20 million word nerds, like me, have gotten caught up in this highly addictive diversion. Each player is technologically capable of playing up to 20 games simultaneously.
At first I thought this free app was an online version of Scrabble, which I've always loved to play, but never did, because no one I knew wanted to play with me. I guess grownups don't play old-fashioned board games very often unless they're in a competitive Scrabble league, on a transatlantic cruise, or a resident of an institutional facility of one type or another (use your imagination). I am "none of the above."
Words with Friends is a near clone but not the same as Scrabble. Because the classic game is trademarked, the values of the letters are different and the board has a different scoring arrangement in terms of double words, triple words, etc. With the combination of the small font on my iPhone and my middle-aged vision, I didn't realize the differences until Patty beat me handily a few games in a row.
It took time to get into the rhythm and rules but once I started winning, I was hooked! I would make a move, peel a cucumber, and then glance back at my smartphone to see if someone had responded with a move while I was in the midst of making the salad. I learned about Patty's habits, too, and suspect she has a sleep disorder because she usually plays the game in the wee hours of the night.
The game can be played with real friends, virtual friends, or random strangers, all of whom can easily be found or find you with a few touches on the screen. For the first dozen games or so (who's counting), I felt loyal to my "pusher" but eventually began playing with other people. It turns out that Words with Friends is a real social lubricant that has the uncanny ability to make fast friends out of strangers. Initially, playing with others felt like I was cheating on Patty but I knew she was playing behind my back, too. She doesn't know the full extent of my Word promiscuity.
Judy is another person I play with pretty regularly. Oddly, I had fantasized she was a man for a couple of months before I found out she was both a woman and a formidable opponent. I've only beaten her once or twice, perhaps because her habit is far worse than mine. She admits to playing 15 opponents simultaneously, spread over all her waking hours, making moves possibly 30 - 50 times a day. I like playing her because she is SO good. I get a rush when my score even comes close to hers. The game allows players to text their opponents privately and Judy once told me that most people won't play her more than once or twice because she is THAT good. Playing the game also gives you an inkling of your opponents' personalities. I'm generally mistrusting of people who use too many unusual two-letter words (like qi, za, en).
When I wake up in the middle of the night to piddle, I always pause to make a move on the screen of my iPhone (sometimes several with different players) before I get in the bathroom or get back in bed. This urine test is one sure way to identify an addict.
Since I often take my smartphone to bed, the game has caused some marital discord. My husband has tried to do an intervention, cautioning me to turn off the annoying sounds while he's sleeping. (Moving the letters around on the board sounds like you're popping bubble wrap and a chime sounds when you complete a word.)
I sometimes worry that I'm annoying the love of my life and wasting time but then I convince myself that some good will come from my obsessive game playing: I'm exercising my brain to ward off dementia. I'm building my vocabulary. I'm connecting with other people. But in more sober moments, I know I've reached the point of excess. Rationalization is a defense mechanism commonly used by addicts.
I'll have to figure out when and how to give up the game but right now I can't. It's my turn to make a few overdue moves on the screen. By that way, do you play Words with Friends?