During my last year in university, I had a tall boyfriend who was sunny and masculine. When I and other students were running about madly in search of a job, a famous joint venture discovered my boyfriend's talents.

On the morning of the interview, he stood in front of the mirror and kept asking me: "Am I OK?" I nodded: "Of course."

But he returned from the interview, which included a psychological test, less than confident. A week later, the company informed him that he didn't pass the test, which indicated that he had a tendency for violent behavior.

"How can they draw such a conclusion? Is this test authoritative or even believable?" he said punching both fists into a tree. Perhaps the test was right after all.

This setback eventually caused him to choose another company in Shanghai and we later broke up. But he has since developed an addiction to online tests. As we once chatted on QQ, he told me: "Take a test. Let's see if you would marry and divorce me."

Taking a few tests is interesting. Taking many tests a day becomes exasperating. Can these tests prove anything at all?

Later, after a busy working week I suffered a series of headaches. The doctor pushed me a piece of paper toward me: "Take a psychology test first."

There were 20 questions. Number one: "Do you often want to cry?" I answered firmly: "No." There were other questions like "Do you often feel agitated?" "How many times do you go to friends' gatherings each month?"