Apparently Meyers-Briggs and suchlike are hot on the brains over at 3WA. I started to contribute to the conversations a couple of times, but couldn’t really bring it to a useful and non-offensive conclusion, because the fact of the matter is, I hate those fuckin’ tests. I mean!Â
Years ago, back when I was working The Worst Job I’ve Ever Had In The History of Ever, (short form, “Mutual Fund Hell”) they rounded up us raw recruits and herded us off to do one of those alien mind probes personality tests. Now I’d been on the job for no more than a month, but I already had a strong suspicion that me and that place were a bad, bad, bad fit. They did teambuilding which often featured *shudder* ice breaking games, and they had big, colorful posters with inane, supposedly morale-building slogans up all over the place and a workforce that was on the verge of mutiny.Â
Like hell did I want to let any of them know how or what I thought about anything!Â
I really, really didn’t want to take the test. I wondered if I’d get in trouble if I dug in my heels and refused to take it. Surely they couldn’t psychologize me without my consent? I decided, much against my better judgement, to not make a stink and take the test, if only because I didn’t want to jeopardize my job considering that I was in desperate need of a steady paycheck.
With bad grace I entered the training room where the test was being administered. My foul mood and lousy attitude worsened with every question I answered. Many of them seemed redundant or like minor re-phasing of similar questions. I was impatient. There were too many questions, some of them seemed way too personal, and ye gods, who has time for all this bullshit? I could be doing actual work, work they pay me for. I could be gettin’ shit done, not dithering on with 538 questions about how my brains malfunction.
I was just beside myself with abundant annoyance. As I filled out the myriad dots, my thought patterns ran along the lines of, “fuck you. Fuck this. I ain’t tellin’ nothin! I don’t hold with head-shrinkin’ on the clock! You don’t have the right! My brains are PRIVATE BUSINESS! Fuck the fuck out of you, you fuckin’ fucks!”
I figured after they scored my test, the guys in the white coats would come after me with a straitjacket and a tranq-gun. I was actually a bit afraid that my “score” whatever it might be, might hurt my employability. I considered going back in and telling the proctor that I fucked it up, that I wanted to re-take it, and filling it out with answers that would have given a more pleasant, likeable, employable impression.   Then, I though, “well hell, they’re gonna figure out what I’m like eventually. Might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb.”
Apparently I didn’t test out as utterly psychotic. We got our “scores” a week or so later and no further mention of it was made. No fliers titled “strategies for the ENTP” or “Management tips for INTJs” or anything like that. No follow up. It turned out to be such a non-issue, that I don’t even remember what I racked up as being. Given the frame of mind I was in when I took the thing, there was probably quite a bit of “I” and quite a bit of “J,” but the gods alone only know. I pitched the damn thing in the trash as soon as it was handed over to me.
About ten years ago, a bunch of journallers took the online BM test, and I put them in a spreadsheet and put it on the web; it might still be out there somewhere, but I can’t find it on any of my HDs at home.
Anyway, I wrote a short analysis of the journalling mind, titled it anal.htm ( for analysis, you see)…
Thanx for being here!
The only thing worse than being forced by your employer to takes one of these is no follow up, however stupid, by said employer. WTF?
I straight up refuse to participate in ice-breaking activities and games.