The 4 Personality Colours - which are you?

My manager at work has a sheet of paper pinned to the half-wall protruding thing that divides our two desks. It describes four different types of personalities, splitting each into a different colour. It's supposed to help you understand how people will react to different situations, which in turn will help you communicate with them.

Um.

I hate it.

I haven't really figured out why it bothers me, but something about the existence of this sheet of paper makes me depressed about humankind. I get a sinking feeling in my stomach knowing that this is what the world's come to. We need guides and workshops and training to tell us who we are, and how we can 'manage' each other? Don't we have anything better to do?

Ugh, I'm really struggling to pinpoint why this irritates me so much. A few years ago I probably would have loved to decide what category I belong to. It would have been a fun game to go through everyone I know and designate them a personality type. But right now it bugs me.

Anyway, enough whining. I made a photocopy of it knowing what a good blog topic it would be. Let's take a look at it, shall we?

 

 I couldn't really take a good pic of it, so I've written out what the paper says below:

See what I mean? What a load of shize. At least I learned a fun new phrase - 'analysis paralysis'.

Anyway, I suppose I am mostly yellow. But I think I have some green and red qualities too. I'm definitely not blue.

Siiiigh. Maybe we should all just take Pocahontas' advice.

What stupid colour are you? 

Love,
Smadge

Boys Can't Whisper

Last weekend Andy and I went to a wedding.

I was planning on wearing the dress that I won from a box of cereal, but at the last minute I picked up this little number. I justified the expense by telling myself I will also wear it to two other weddings this summer - my brother Max's and my friend Jody's. Honestly, I really never spend money on clothes (did you know jeans are only £7 at Primark?); so I refuse to feel bad about it.

ANYWAY, between the new dress and the smorgasbord of tasty or-derves (yep - deal with it), I was in good spirits.

But there was one tense moment during the event. When the groom was delivering his speech (which was FAB, btw), Andy leaned over and said something to one of his friends. Instinctively, without even realising what I was doing, I uttered the following (in my loudest whisper):

"Andy! Either learn to whisper, or don't talk at all!"

Andy laughed, those within earshot smiled, and we all returned our attention to the speech. Still, I instantly regretted it - not because I think I was wrong, but because I've been gaining ground in my case to convince Andy that I don't 'nag' him and I knew this would set me back. Weeks worth of biting my tongue when he doesn't let the tea bag brew long enough - all for naught.

Image via the Monterey Languages Blog

Anyway, now that I'm on the subject, I might as well pursue this 'boys can't whisper' phenomenon a bit further.

Firstly, am I stereotyping when I say "boys can't whisper"? Yes. So, why do I say it? Because saying "based on my experience many boys I know can't whisper" doesn't have the same ring to it. Grant me this excuse and I promise not to get offended when fools say things like "women are crazy" or "is it that time of the month again?" (hardy har har).

Secondly, it genuinely is something I've noticed about boys (or 'men', if you prefer that grosser term) - they struggle to whisper. Instead, they just speak at a normal volume with reckless regard for the circumstance! Now, is this because they just don't care, or because they actually physically can't whisper (or it's at least really difficult for them)? If you too have noticed this, please let me know your thoughts.

In defense of boys, I currently work with two girls (or 'women', if you prefer that grosser term) who are the SOFTEST whisperers ever. They'll lean over their desks and form words with their mouths, but I hear nothing. NOTHING! And I can tell by their expression it's something juicy! I usually say 'WHAT?' in an excited non-whisper, which causes them to look around for eavesdroppers and decide against gossiping after all. Sigh.

Shhhhh,

Margaret