It happened gradually. At first, it was one quiz every four or five days. I would see one in my Facebook feed that piqued my interest. There had to be some kind of deeper existential explanation attached to the result of  ”Which Kind of Rug Are You?”

It was fun, picking my favorite drinks (BOOZE), discovering  I am in fact suppose to be a writer because I really like Lord of the Rings. The quizzes made sense. Then my curiosity grew. I had to find out which circle of hell I was destined to inhabit. . I needed to know what kind of disney prince would be my perfect match and whether or not I was a bag of pretzels or a NY Times Trend Story. I began taking the quizzes more frequently. It went from one every few days to one every few hours- then minutes.

Answering the phone during this time was not an option. I needed to focus, a clear, determined understanding of each option I was given so as not to arbitrarily choose “Stepping in Poop” or “Getting a Boner at Work.” At one point my mother called 8 times in a row. I hope it wasn’t important. Of course it wasn’t. Nothing was more important than finding out which Mean Girl I was. My friends wanted to hang out, but I couldn’t face them knowing I was the sarcastic side-eye emoji, what if they were the ok hand?! How could we hope to survive the tumultuous ups and downs of friendship if I didn’t know who got the Al Roker Lifted by Ryan Gosling? No, I couldn’t communicate with anyone until I finished taking ALL OF THE QUIZZES. Only then could I know my true self and proceed with life accordingly, either blossoming as a socialite with a predilection for journalism or a moody reclose afraid of human interaction and my own reflection.

These were the only two viable outcomes in my mind. I threw logic out the window. Who needed that nonsense when I could find out which Stefon Club I was. It didn’t matter that I had no idea if that was a fictional place or not, the results mattered. The results always matter.

I remember sitting in front of my computer screen. The sweet feeling of serenity I can only get from the gentle light of my monitor, when it happened. After answering the last question to a quiz I got the most puzzling result. Parks and Recreation is one of my favorite current sitcoms and I knew for sure I would get Ann, the most beautiful ray of sunshine. Instead, I got Jean-Ralphio.

My heart sank. Staring at my computer screen in horror and disbelief I knew, after feeling so confident with my results so far- Getting Anna and Kristoff from Frozen was a definite highlight- none of it meant anything. With my hopes of self-discovery shattered like Chris Christie’s reputation I could do nothing but spiral into a deep unrelenting darkness.

I moved my possessions into the basement of my building. I could not be seen. All of me was a giant lie. I didn’t know who I was anymore. Buzzfeed had proven my ineptitude to be a functioning part of society. It was over for me. I’m writing from a corner, lit faintly by a scented glade candle- apple cinnamon- and the betraying light of my computer screen. I went off the quizzes cold turkey and all I have to show for it is a mental break and an unfortunate flourishing sense of denial. 

But wait. What’s this I see? Oh, I haven’t seen this one before. Yes. Yes I would like to know which 90s TV show I am.

Sigh, oh well. Here we go again.