The internet is awash with self-assessments: those absurd tests that reveal details about your personality that you never knew before but suddenly must learn immediately. These tests are purely stupid and a complete waste of time and below the dignity of any grown-up with an ounce of self-respect. And I am addicted to them.
I’m only human. I defy anyone to pass by a test that asks, “Are you good in bed?” or “What does your cat really think of you?” or “Were you a bigger disappointment to your mother or your father?” I mean, really, self-restraint does have its limits.
For me, a test that promises to offer insight to some previously untapped level of my persona is like waving a red flag in front of a bull: I can’t resist. And, truly, what’s not to love about a personality survey that can condense the complexities of personality into 10 multiple-choice questions? Without these tests I would have never learned, as I did last week, that if I was a city I would be Chicago, because I’m too laid back to be New York and too uptight to be Los Angeles.
Later, much later, I started to ponder how I could simultaneously be laid back and uptight, but then I was distracted by an assessment that revealed that emotionally I was “shallow” and that my emotional development had stopped somewhere in second grade. That kind of annoyed me, but I felt better after taking the next test that revealed that I was an “old soul” and that in a past life I had been a Tibetan monk who self-immolated. “Now, that has to show some depth of character,” I muttered to myself.
After I learned about my Tibetan roots I swore off any more self-testing, but that only lasted until I had the opportunity to find out that if I were an English monarch I would be Edward II, a weak, ineffective monarch who I had never heard of, as opposed to Henry V, who I also had never heard of but, since he was described as heroic and noble was clearly superior to Edward II.
As it turned out I was not done with the Brits because my next test revealed that if I was a Harry Potter character I would be Hermione (smart but insufferable) but thankfully that was mitigated by the next test after that showed that if I were an English songbird I’d be a nightingale: “You charm people with the sound of your voice.”
That seemed unlikely but was a better result than my nest three tests that determined that if I were a movie character I would be Captain Bligh or that if I were a song I’d be, mystifyingly, “Mack the Knife” or that if I were a tree I’d be a Dutch Elm.
Since I had learned that if I were a TV character I would be Felix Unger, (obsessive/compulsive, controlling and neurotic) I tried to find some prevailing theme that would tie all these tests together and offer me some deeper insight into my being. That’s when I found the assessment that revealed what kind of boss I was.
As bosses go, I must admit the bar was set pretty low but it revealed that I was on the cusp between “cheap bastard” and “abusive bully” and that Ebenezer Scrooge was the boss closest to my persona.
Feeling low, I turned to my big dog, Ali, sleeping soundly by my side. “Am I really that bad?” I muttered. In response she walked over and licked my face and I remembered the results from my “Does your dog really like you?” test:
“You have significant flaws but your dog loves you unconditionally. As long as you feed her.”