Quiz: Do You Have a Twitter Addiction? – Day 4
After doing extensive research with a number of double-blind studies, many lab animals, and at least 2 assistants who knew calculus, I feel confident that I have created a test that proves whether you do in fact have a Twitter addiction. Just so you know, you can’t eat 24 hours prior to the test, and you can only use a #2 pencil. Also, you’ll want an eraser, to erase all the marks on your computer screen.
Do You Have a Twitter Addiction?
1. When you wake up in the morning, you:
a. Open your bright eyes, listen to the birds singing, and imagine how good your low-fat granola-and-tofu breakfast bar is going to be while you ride your unicycle to work.
b. Wake up, make coffee, mumble something to the people you live with, and try not to run over pedestrians while attempting to get to work on time.
c. Hit the alarm with red, zombie eyes and immediately put your hand on your cell phone which has conveniently been laying next to you since you stopped tweeting 3 hours before.
2. You have been stuck inside for 2 weeks because of the awful Oregon rain. It’s finally a gorgeous, sun-filled day. You celebrate by:
a. Going out to a local farmer’s market and bartering for non-GMO corn with your homemade hemp lingerie.
b. Take the family to the park for a classic PB&J picnic party while trying to avoid the sun because you have the complexion of a vampire.
c. Find a nice sunny spot in your living room and cuddle up to your iPad Twitter app. Think of all the funny tweets you are missing if you go outside to play with your daughter!
3. When someone asks what you’re doing this weekend, you say:
a. “I have a lot of gardening to do. My co-op is really vitamin K deficient, and I’m in charge of raising the kill-free carrots this year.”
b. “We were going to go camping and attempt to not lose one of the kids at a gas station.”
c. “I have this online thing I’m going to. Well, it’s not so much a “thing” as it is doing research about how much art Hitler sold so that I have something cool to share for #MondayBlogs.”
4. You’re driving to school and your vehicle runs over a nail. The first thing you do is:
a. Get out your tire patch kit and thank the Goddess that you took that bicycle tire safety course at the community college.
b. Say all the curse words that your Uncle Larry taught you in one continuous stream for 5 minutes. Then, call a tow truck because your spare is covered in melted ice cream.
c. Get disappointed for a millisecond, then elated because you’re going to have some excellent fun live-tweeting this ordeal with your characteristic snarkitude.
5. Your little sister asks you for relationship advice in preparation for her upcoming nuptials. You tell her:
a. “Relationships are based on open communication. Open to each other, open to the universal forces of nature, and open to the possibility that trees can actually feel emotion.”
b. “Be honest with each other. Also, don’t let each other fart in bed. That’ll break anybody.”
c. “Sexting is the best way to keep a relationship alive. All the fun of actually being there, without the messy human contact.”
6. The most common complaint you hear from your family is:
a. “Stop using all the flax seed oil. Your bowels are beautiful just the way they are.”
b. “Could you please pick up the house? I think the laundry pile just ate another one of our kids.”
c. “Put. The. Phone. Down.”
7. Someone asks you who your best friend in the whole world is. You say:
a. “My inner child.”
b. “For 21 days out of the month, it’s my husband. The other 7? Chocolate pizza.”
c. “It’s hard to pick. I’d have to say @rambamthankyamam, @origamibutthole and @gingerbeard.”
8. A counselor asks you to do a little word association. He says, “Bird.” You say:
a. “Freedom from the tyranny of the metaphysical cage that we call life, man. Also, I am veeerrry high.”
b. “The thing I just accidentally showed my kids how to do when that jackhole cut me off on the way to gymnastics lessons.”
9. You are staring off into the middle distance as the sun burns a gorgeous panorama of blues, pinks and purples. Your spouse asks you what you’re thinking. The truth is:
a. You’re meditating on the idea that we are all connected in a circle, in a hoop that never ends. Wait. Is that a song from Pocahontas…?
b. You’re thinking that it is really nice to be looking at the sunset with someone you love: Your daiquiri.
c. You’re silently formulating a bird-poop/Superman joke, mentally editing it down to 140-characters.
10. Given one wish, you would choose:
a. World peace.
b. A full-time maid/babysitter.
c. More hours in the day for Tweeting.
Congratulations! You did it. Now, check out the results to see where you stand.
Mostly A’s: You’re a Portlander
Well, it sure is a good thing you invested in that organic farming equipment, because you’re going to use it! Forget a Twitter addiction, you have no idea what a post 1995 computer even looks like. You’re too busy washing your baby’s cotton diapers by hand and doing rain dances to waste your time on something as stupid as the Interconnected Network.
Mostly B’s: You’re a Human
Great job on being relatively normal. Sure, you might drink while doing dishes…breakfast dishes. Sure, you might sometimes teach your kids curse words to shock your mother-in-law at Thanksgiving. But, generally, you are a person who knows how to function in the technological world without letting it take over your life. Don’t worry. Your Dr. Who binging is our little secret.
Mostly C’s: You’re a Twitter Addict
You have a Twitter addiction. You wake up with your phone. You go to sleep with your phone. You think about your phone and the people inside it almost constantly. In fact, given a choice between your real-life friends and your online friends, you would pick your tweeps every time. When you’re not actually online nursing your Twitter addiction (usually during movies, while driving, or when out to dinner on a “date”), you’re imagining how you are going to turn your stupid life into a hilarious 2 1/2 sentence anecdote. Get help.
Now that you know for sure where you stand, join me for the next exciting edition of my Twitter uncoupling, “Emotional Infidelity.” I promise. You don’t want to miss it.