It’s surely not chance but some combination of algorithm and habitude, but everywhere I look, there’s a quiz about burnout. It would be functionally impossible for me to burn out, since I’m just not running hot enough. As I understand it, from the many quizzes, this is what burnout is: the hell of other people who want too much, expect too much, notice too little, don’t appreciate enough. I work alone and it’s hard to really get drawn in to that psychodrama from a distance. I’m like the warthog in The Lion King, caught between a pillow and a soft, soft place.
Still, I like to read them out for family members: “Have you lost interest in things you previously cared about?” “Do you feel like you do everything and nobody else does anything, or notices?” “Score five for ‘always’.”
They remind me of the Judy and Mandy annuals in the 80s, which used to do really detailed multiple choices on the huge questions facing a 12-year-old, such as: “Are you a good friend?” or “What kind of party girl are you?” (fun, wallflower, team player, mystery).
I remember poring over questions like: “You’ve just washed your hair and blow-dried it, and your friend wants to go swimming. Do you a) go with her; b) lie and say you’re not allowed; c) tell the truth, that you don’t want to mess up your hair; d) tell your mum to say you’ve gone to the library?” It was always so baffling to me. Who would ever want to get wet twice, in one day? What kind of friends went swimming together, when they could have been sitting around doing a quiz? Imagine having a mum so cooperative and easily compromised!
Racier titles for the older reader would have “Are you a good girlfriend?” quizzes, and the moral axis would be basically the same (self-abnegate/lie/establish boundary/get someone else to lie) but the stakes would be euphemistically higher. I can save the whole world of the character quiz a lot of time: if you’re doing the quiz at all, the answer is yes.
• Zoe Williams is a columnist for the Guardian
