The Type? Writer.

Theoretically, computers are machines like any others. I've heard all my life that their only real ability, when you get right down to it, is to process an endless series of ones and zeros in what is known as binary code. But I've never been able to believe it. Deep down, I know computers are just like people. They have unresolved issues from their childhoods. They have mother-in-laws who come to visit. And they have off-days.

I guess that, when my laptop started acting up during my observation, it was just having a bad hair day. Because, when I got it home and plugged it into my own power supply and hooked it up to my own internet connection, whatever problem the touch-pad mouse replacement had been having suddenly disappeared. Very strange. Maybe my computer was just picking out the homesickness vibes I've been sending out lately.

Whatever the actual cause of my computer's bizarre behavior, I was relieved to have the mouse pad working again, because on that particular night, I was to take a career test my career counselor had arranged for me. It would have been difficult to take the test elsewhere, because my school has recently imposed a draconian usage policy designed to lower its internet bill. Briefly, the three computers available to teachers now have a combined daily bandwidth limit, and once this bandwidth limit is reached on any given day, there is no more internet for anyone, for any purpose. A couple of days ago, this limit was reached before two in the afternoon (our school's offices are open from about 9:00 in the morning to about 9:30 at night). I can easily envision fights ensuing over bandwidth issues in the near future, and I prefer not to be a cause of these fights.

In any event, I dutifully took my assigned career test, which proved to be shorter than I had expected. The result is that I am apparently something called an INFJ on the Myers-Briggs personality scale. From looking around a bit on the net, I have found out that INFJs are "future-oriented" (my shrink in New York frequently accuses me, not always unjustly, of living in the future instead of enjoying my present); naturally idealistic (Check); and prefer work that enables them to help people and use their creative talents (Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. Any more checks and I could found a republic in Central Europe).

At least one site I looked at indicated that INFJs often struggle with figuring out exactly what to do with themselves. It's good to know I'm neither alone nor crazy because this has been true for me; roughly one in ever 60 or 70 people is an INFJ. The even better news is that this assessment seems to indicate I'm finally barking up the right trees when it comes to what to do with my life. INFJs tend to do well working in educational, counseling, and creative roles.

They also tend to make good writers. Amazing, isn't it, that a personality test could get me so well. People have been telling me I write well as long as I can remember. A major challenge and difficulty for me has been figuring out where to put that writing talent to some kind of productive use. But I have a sense I'm getting closer.

I asked my former shrink in New York, a man in whom I have a great deal of trust and confidence, what he makes of Myers-Briggs and similar kinds of personality assessments. He told me they are not gospel but not worthless either; he also seemed to agree with what this assessment had determined about me. Indeed, I can say it fits in well with what has been true of my life thus far. Every career decision I have made was, at least initially, motivated by a desire to do something where I got to be creative and help others. What I now home my counselor can do for me is help me find the most suitable path like that.

I may not be where I want to be, but I am further along than I was. I know I will reach my destination. And this assessment has given me that knowledge.