Today’s questions are sourced from the list of conversational ice-breakers Bumble suggests you add to your dating profile to let potential interests learn more about your personality.

I’m pretty cynical about these kinds of questionnaires on dating apps, but decided they’d make a great fodder for when I next found myself with nothing to write for a blog post. That’s the position I’ve found myself in this evening. I came home from work super tired and in the kind of mood where I just wanted to have a cup of tea and stick my middle finger up to my responsibilities. But there’s a part of me that won’t let me neglect my deadlines unless I’m in a state where I could legitimately obtain a medical certificate. And, unfortunately, a serious case of the Yeah Nahs doesn’t cut it in the medial world. So I’ve forced myself to post something before I tune out for the night.

And I think I’ve clearly demonstrated just why I don’t actually answer these kind of bullshit questions in the context of a dating profile.

My dream dinner guest is: Right now I don’t want to have dinner with anyone, I just want to eat my tomato rice bake and watch people struggling to project manage their ambitious self-builds on rugged British coastlines in Grand Designs.

But if I wasn’t in such a grumble bum of a mood, I probably say Nigella Lawson. However, I wouldn’t want our dinner to feel like some boring obligation for her, so I’d want to earn her attendance by doing something cool first. Like, if my cook booklet ended up as a best seller and she reached to me out via a hand-written card asking to catch up. In reality, I’d go over for a lunch meeting, which would spill over to afternoon tea, then wines, then dinner, then dessert, then more wines, then us drunkenly re-enacting one of her iconic sneaks-to-fridge-while-wearing-a-dressing-gown scenes. This is my dream dinner, I’ll do it how I want to.

Two truths and a lie: No, I’m not doing that. This isn’t fucking O-Week. Sit down, mate.

My third grade teacher described me as: A pleasure to teach because I was a people-pleaser who loved doing schoolwork because I was too fat to get the validation I so desperately craved from my athletic abilities.

The person/thing that holds me most accountable is: My unrelenting standards schema. It’s one panicky, demanding bitch, but sweet baby cheeses does it make me efficient.

I’m doing schema work with my psychologist at the moment, which is where we nut out the things that fuel my anxiety. You take a test and the results tell you what informs your thought patterns and behaviours. It’s kind of like when you read a reeeeeally accurate horoscope, except it’s a manifestation of your past experiences instead of being made up by some bored magazine intern.

My most recent act of kindness: I put away the dishes that were drying on the washing up rack so my housemates didn’t have to do it. However, this also benefited me because I hate dry dishes cluttering up the counter when they could be put away where they belong.

After work you can find me: Answering questions about myself in a snarky tone like I’m better than other shallow, narcissistic, basic people, when I’m actually the kind of person who spends hours answering surveys about themselves for fun…

Beach or mountains: Obviously this question is about more than the scenery you prefer, it is something that reveals a great deal about your personality. It’s because of this that I’ll have to say “mountains” because when you think of someone who would prefer the beach, you picture a relaxed, super happy kinda person who is chilled out enough not to get annoyed by sand and has washboard abs. I mean, I do enjoy a good swim in the ocean, but I feel my personality is more aligned with the moody, deep-thinking mountain climber. Plus, I also love wearing baggy jumpers and sitting by big windows watching the rain with a cup of tea, which feels like more of a cabin-in-the-mountains sort of thing.

Childhood celebrity crush: Ryan Girdler?

Nightclub or Netflix: Despite my answer above about snuggling up to Grand Designs, I’m going to say nightclub, but stipulate that it’s one of those establishments which has lots of seating in a quiet area on a different level to the dance floor, a band that takes requests screamed from the crowd and a strict you-don’t-have-to-wear-shoes-if-you-don’t-want-to policy.

If I could only have three things on a deserted island, they’d be: Geeez, I don’t fucking know. I mean, the reasonable answer involving equipment that would ensure your survival isn’t very interesting so I guess I’d go with a pair of ice skates, a dress with some mesh-like skirt layers that I could use as a fishing net and a soccer ball with my bloodied handprint on it. Is that interesting enough for you?! Fuck.