Yes. That is my blog title today. I’m more fake angry than real angry right now. I also have a headache and that’s not helping.
I’ve been taking these stupid online quizzes lately because that’s what all the cool kids are doing, and I am not at all pleased with the results. Not. At. All.
First I took a quiz to see which character I would be from the TV show Friends. Obviously I should be Monica. Anyone who knows me would agree. Monica with a splash of Phoebe.
Who do I get?
Who’s Gary? Exactly. He was in like…three episodes? Maybe? Ridiculous! And the reasoning is even worse. I can’t post it because it makes me feel ashamed.
So I retook the quiz, naturally. Changed my favorite color, what pet bird I would want, you know, the stuff that really tells a person who you are. And what did I get this time?
He’s almost worse than Gary. Who wants to be Ross? He gets teased, he makes terrible choices, and he can’t hold a relationship together if his life depended on it. And I’m pretty sure the only reason I got Ross was because of the people I could choose from to “date” I picked Rachel, because who wouldn’t?
And apparently that makes me Ross. Though now that I think about it, I see the obvious trap there.
You’d think I would have learned my lesson. But no. Just a few minutes ago I thought it would be a good idea to calculate my mental age. Obviously six questions about what I’m doing over the weekend and what I would think about a spontaneous trip to Paris qualify as deep enough to make that mental age calculation.
I’m 13. Thirteen, people! Do you know how degraded I felt? No offense to you 13 year olds out there, but I’ve been there, done that. I am NOT thirteen. I refuse to accept it.
So now I’m all in a fake fuss, pretending like I care more than I do, because the fact that I actually took those quizzes and were unhappy with the result proves that my mental age is in fact 13. Heck, maybe I am Gary too. Maybe my whole life is a lie and the only way I can ever figure out myself is to take those quizzes. Maybe I should invest in a magic 8 ball, too.
I’m going to quit while I’m behind. Everything I knew about life is up in the air now.
Because I’m cultured. And because I love Poland.