This week I have mostly been doing personality tests. Everyone loves a good personality test because everyone loves talking about themselves. The part that isn’t fun is when you have to listen to everyone else’s results.
‘BUT LISTEN TO MY TRAITS AGAIN!’ you want to shout, as you think about how ironic it is that the test just told you your main qualities were selfishness and impatience.
I find it hard to take personality results seriously. They are so broad and non-specific that it’s like reading a newspaper horoscope-
“You may or may not meet a new friend who will or will not help you with your finances/relationships/health.”
The personality test I had to do in work this week told me that I am: ‘very superficial’. One of the new people in work who I haven’t spent very much time with turned to me and said:
“I think you are one of the least superficial people I know.” Which means that she knows me better than the results of that test.
I understand why personality tests are carried out, especially in the work place. Self-awarness is important and something that I try to be conscious of.
I tend to take things really personally and think any kind of criticism or direction is an attack. This is something I’m working on, so stop shouting at me and telling me to change. I’M SORRY!
So I decided to categorise my personality myself, in the most specific and detailed way possible. You should do it too, or just borrow mine cause let’s be honest, I’m pretty cool.
My five main traits are:
1) Craig David appreciator.
I have never owned a Craig David album. I have never been to a Craig David concert. I do not find Craig David attractive in any way. But when ‘Fill Me In’ comes on Magic Fm I say “Yesssss!” and do a little booty shake in celebration. One of the many impractical things I brought over with me from Ireland when I moved to Manchester two years ago was a massive wall-sized poster of Craig David. I hung it opposite my bed so I could see his smile and beanie hat first thing every morning. When I went on my first date with the nice boy he told me that he had been involved in making a website for Craig David and I immediately thought “It’s meant to be!” But then he made me take down the huge poster cause Craig kept staring at him.
2) Haver of “BURGER” tourettes.
I’ll look up the menu for a restaurant I am going to go to and think ‘oh, that salad looks nice’. I think about that salad all day, knowing it’s going to make me feel great in my body and my mind. I tell everyone on the way to the restaurant how I am going to order the salad, and how excited I am about it. I even tell strangers I pass in the street. “I’m having the salad!” When I’m in my seat at the restaurant I find the salad on the menu and again admire the vast, exciting ingredients. I ask everyone else what they are ordering and reiterate how I am going to have the salad. When the waiter comes over I smile politely as everyone else orders, nodding at their excellent choices. And then as the waiter turns to me, and everyone else’s eyes rest on my face, my body convulses, I have a brain spasm and start to black out, and just before the darkness hits my eyes I shout, at an inappropriate volume for a restaurant environment:
3) Someone who takes a ballad too seriously.
I have been known to remove myself from a group so I can go to a quiet place by myself and listen to a sad song and really miss the person I am thinking about. I have been known to stare intensely out the window of a train as Adele sings into my ears. I have been known to listen to a full Dido album as I sit in a bath thinking about ‘life’ (it really is for rent). I have been know to say “it was like Taylor Swift went through exactly the same thing as me and then wrote an album about our pain.” I may or may not be able to listen to Ed Sheeran’s first album anymore due to the memories it evokes. I will automatically love the slowest song on any album ever. The Destiny’s Child version of Emotion is too much for me to handle.
4) A person who is unable to grow out a fringe.
I decided to grow out my fringe after looking at too many photos of Mila Kunis. I went to Boots and bought many varieties of clips. I went to my hairdresser and got him to cut my hair into a side parting. I plucked my eyebrows for the first time in months. I was ready. Three weeks later I was so bored of seeing so much of my face that I ran to my hairdresser and demanded an emergency fridge cut. It must have been very unpleasant to do since I was sweaty from the running. So it looks like I’m now going to have a fringe for the rest of my life. Unless I go into some sort of coma and it has time to grow out without me getting sick of my forehead.
5) A reject of Samantha Mumba’s younger brother.
At a teen disco when I was 14 my friend spotted Samantha Mumba’s brother. She recognised him instantly because a few weeks before in town we had seen him with some friends and followed them around for a while. It was exciting because Ireland rarely produces celebrities, and if it does they are usually either very old or very stupid. As I was the only single one in the group she insisted on dragging me over to him and asking if he would kiss me. I was wearing a very nice moss green top as a dress, I had black eyeshadow all over my eyelids, I was wearing my Mum’s high heels that were a size too small for me and had plucked my eyebrows into obscurity. I was looking hot like it was 2003 (it was). But he said no. Branding me as Samantha Mumba’s brother’s reject for the rest of my days. Oh Omero Mumba, you cut me deep.