Who am I, and who wants to know?

Other people shop the sales in January, or start working on their taxes.

Not me.

I have an identity crisis.

Over the years, I’ve found that January is the ideal time for this kind of activity. This way, I make sure I get it in, before I get too busy with the rest of the year. It’s also very time-consuming, which helps the month go by faster. And it’s a perfect excuse for staying indoors, out of the Minnesota cold.

“I’m so sorry, Fred, I can’t help jump start your car today. I’ve having an identity crisis and I have to stay in. You understand. “

No one in my family understands, though. My husband doesn’t see the need for me to question my identity, because he figures that if I don’t know who I am by now, I’m out of luck. When I mentioned it to my daughter, she said I should get a job.

“I already have a job,” I reminded her. “How will a second job help me discover who I am and what I want out of life?”

“I don’t know about all that,” she replied. “But you’d be so busy, you wouldn’t have time to think about it.”

She does have a point. Misguided, perhaps, but a point nonetheless.

My family’s opinions aside, I’ve decided to take a new approach to my search for self this year. No more Ouija boards for me! For once, I’m going about my identity crisis in a thoroughly scientific manner. I’ve taken a personality indicator test, one of those psychological surveys that are supposed to tell you what kind of person you are, what your strengths are, how you perceive things and how you make decisions.

Of course, the test’s introduction says that the questions are not important in themselves, but simply indicate certain preferences that are important.

Right. I don’t believe that for one minute. I have no doubt that whoever wrote this test is sitting somewhere right now, still laughing every time they think about all the people who read that introduction and take it literally.

“Okay, I believe what it says here. It really isn’t important if on question #26, I have to admit I have no friends. What is important is what it points to in my decision making process.”

Yeah, right.

I also think that this test was poorly written. There aren’t nearly enough answer choices for each question. For example, one question reads: “Is it more difficult for you to a) accept routine; or b) accept constant change?” My answer would be c) get up in the morning. Likewise, I wanted to write in my own choice for this question: “Would you prefer a)an opportunity to achieve great things, or b) an experience you will treasure?” I’d prefer a chocolate malt, please.

According to the test literature, when I get these results back, I will be better equipped to live and work more easily with people because I will know about the ways I differ from other people and how valuable that can be.

I don’t believe that, either. I will probably be insecure, neurotic and depressed because my test profile will confirm all the negative things I’ve ever suspected about myself. It will also point out aspects of my personality that I’ve spent the last 35 years trying to suppress and conceal from every other member of the human race. It will probably even tell me that I didn’t fill in all the little circles on the answer sheet completely with my No. 2 pencil and that I may have to retest on a later date to be announced.

All of which make me think that taking psychological inventories is a waste of time. Who gave them all the answers anyway? They don’t know me, who I really am, my hopes, my aspirations, my dreams, my experiences. They don’t know the people I love, the places I go, the things that bring me joy. And they never will, either.

You know why?

I put my sister’s name on the answer sheet.