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Layered Rock Pattern

260-question personally test

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So apparently, we’ve entered a new era of job applications — the one where you no longer just submit your résumé, write a heartfelt cover letter, and maybe do a phone screen. No, no. That’s too quaint. Too 2020. Now? You’ve got to pass three personality modules, write a short memoir, solve three riddles from an enchanted AI, and complete what can only be described as the corporate version of a Hogwarts sorting ceremony.


Shoutout to Heidi, who just went through 260 personality test questions in round two of an interview process. Round. Two. TWO!


At that point, it’s not a job application — it’s a personality scavenger hunt where the prize is maybe, possibly, potentially getting ghosted by a hiring manager named Brad. Honestly, if a company needs 260 questions to “get to know you,” I feel like you should at least get a coupon for therapy or a Hogwarts house pin.


Can you imagine the back end of that system?

“Based on Heidi’s answers, she has a 94% compatibility rate with the role, a strong internal locus of control, and a 7% likelihood of snapping during Q4.”

Perfect. Let’s move her to round four — a panel interview moderated by a chatbot and one guy named Greg who forgot his camera was on.


It’s getting out of hand, y’all.

The application process is starting to feel like a weird dating app, but instead of looking for love, you’re trying to convince a company that you’re emotionally stable enough to handle Slack notifications and drink lukewarm coffee from the breakroom Keurig.


And let’s not even talk about what happens after the 260 questions. You hit submit, take a nap to recover, and then what? Radio silence. You’ve just emotionally unpacked your childhood trauma through multiple-choice, only to get an automated “We’ve decided to pursue other candidates” at 3 a.m. on a Thursday. No explanation. Just vibes. And despair.


Meanwhile, somewhere out there, someone got hired because their uncle plays golf with the VP and didn’t have to answer a single question beyond “Are you free to start Monday?”


Let’s call it what it is: personality tests are starting to feel like corporate hazing.

“Want a job here? Great. First, tell us how you’d handle conflict, whether you enjoy large social gatherings, and what shape best represents your soul.”

I’m sorry, what?


I say this with love, but if you need me to pass a 260-question exam to file reports and attend meetings that should’ve been emails, you don’t need an employee — you need a therapist.


So here’s my proposal:

If I have to answer more than 20 questions in a personality test, I get to ask one of you in return. Fair’s fair.

— “Do you handle feedback well, or do you just schedule meetings about it?”

— “Would you describe your management style as ‘supportive’ or ‘makes interns cry’?”

— “Have you ever used the word synergy in an actual sentence without immediately regretting it?”


We’re all out here trying our best. Trying to be personable, resilient, passionate, coachable, curious, data-driven, fun but not too fun, and able to pivot in under 0.3 seconds while radiating positivity and responding to rejection with grace and motivational quotes.


So to everyone deep in the job hunt, still filling out questionnaires that ask if you “prefer indoor activities” while your rent is due and your Wi-Fi keeps cutting out — just know you’re not alone.


And if no one’s told you today:

You are more than your personality score.

You are more than your résumé keywords.

And you are definitely more than question #174, “Do you enjoy working independently in fast-paced environments?”


(Answer: Only if there’s snacks and decent dental.)

 
 
 

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