I am basically a spiritual guidance counsellor for humanity, according to Ms Briggs, Ms Meyers-Briggs and that Jung guy.

I shit you not. And you may think that “I shit you not” isn’t something a grand messiah of truth and knowledge would say, but the person who says “I shit you not” was the one filling out the questionnaire and that person (that would be me) received test results telling them they fell into the category of “benevolent pedagogues of humanity”. And I’m not trying to suggest anything, but I did go to a Year 9 dress up party in a homemade Jesus costume (all the girls from the fancier schools dressed up as sexy ladybeetles and shit, while I was clad in bedsheets and had taped cuttings from a mop head to my face).

The other day I had a crack at finding out my personality type according to a test developed by one of the top real-life mother-daughter combo (besides the pair who sang Where You Lead for the opening credits of Gilmore Girls and those two delightful redheaded heroes saving one house at a time on Good Bones) Katharine Cook Briggs and her daughter Isabel Briggs Myers. The pair based this test on a theory put forward by Carl Jung (source: Wikipedia, which I know will hurt my provisional clinical psychologist friend, but she should be comforted by the fact that I didn’t harass her for answers this one time…).

Now, this test has its limitations and has copped some serious criticism for being unreliable, apparently giving people different results when the test is taken on different occasions. This particular test is probably somewhat sketchy, as it took like 10 minutes to complete and was completely free and basically tried to tell you to apply to certain colleges, but that’s all small stuff.

According to me results, I have “tremendous charisma” and offer “nurturant tutelage” to those lost souls out there. This may make me sound like a cult leader, and I can’t say a cult led by me would necessarily be a bad thing. Since I’ve freed up my mental space by finally deciding on which Akubra to buy (an emotional journey you’ll hear about in due course), this is something that I’ve been thinking about lately: what kind of spiritual messiah would I be?

I don’t really have any commandments at the moment, other than “only drink if you’re trying to get drunk because otherwise it’s empty calories”. I only own one pair of sandals. And the last time I spoke in public I told people to “hit the piss and tear it up”. But according to my test, I have the ability and the vision to make real change. There are lost sheep in the world looking for a shepherd with one of those sticks with the curly bit on the end to steer them into the right path. They need a shining light and I can be their environmentally friendly light-emitting diode bulb.

I guess I’m the spiritual leader the world probably could do without and didn’t ask for – like Pauline Hanson. My robe would be a silky leopard print number (which I bought on sale). My sacred text being highlighted passages from Harry Potter. My septa, a dagwood dog. I like to think that I would become the living, breathing Magic 8 Ball people would turn to in times of confusion. A What Would Dannielle Do, of sorts. Sometimes the answer would be “yeah nah”, other times “nah yeah” and the occasional “oi, what do you reckon but?”. I want people to cling to my every inappropriate word. I want people to quote me in their lipstick affirmations on their bedroom mirrors. I want to make it so big that I’m featured on the covers of spare tyres on suburban families’ four wheel drives – I’m going to replace the “Gone fishing”s and the “Nut loose at the wheel”s with my glaringly overbearing chin dammit!

If this free internet quiz is to be taken as gospel truth – and it should be – I have the power to make it big. But I’ve got a lot of work to do if I’m going to establish myself as some kind of living deity. Because right now my only major follower is a local dental surgery liking every one of my Instagram posts in the last few weeks in a desperate bid for a follow-back.

At least it’s a start, I suppose.