I wouldn’t say I’m obsessed with death.

Not in the way I’m obsessed with, say, always filling my Britta water filter pitcher to the brim or making sure the charge on my cell phone, laptop, iPad batteries never gets below, um, 100%.

Let’s just say, notions of my own demise interest me in that I would like to:

1. Forestall any haste to that inevitability since life is going pretty well right now

2. Make sure I don’t have any more serious system failures, causing me to go undercover and buy some of that legal pot available in my state

3. look really good as I (hopefully) slowly decay

So, I was really interested when I learned about this short internet quiz telling me my chances of dying in the next 5 years.

Yup. You heard me right.

I was all over that quiz like insect repellent at a nudist camp.

Just so you know, the quiz comes from the UK. Apparently, they do research there, too.

Based on 11-13 questions, this quiz-ette tells you your risk of dying within the next 5 years from any cause.

That’s a big claim for knowing so little about a person.

In the US, we want to know everything about everyone. Heck, I’ll click “Agree” to anything I want to download or gain access to on the Magic Web. I know that “agree” means okay to gather data on me to sell. I’ve sold my I don’t know what to I don’t know who I don’t know how many times. Everyone agrees, right? I’d rather be an agreeable soul than a miserable, distrustful, apostle-of-something, disagreeable lout.

And we generally don’t care when you’re going to die. We just want to know what you’re up to while you’re still here.

But, apparently, researchers in the UK can know very little about us, yet they can tell us when we’re going to die.

Curious? I was.

So I took the quiz.

It didn’t take long.

If you have three minutes, you should take it, too. However, you may need longer to recover from the results.

I did.

Full disclosure: I’m 57 (and a half). My calculated risk age is 62, and the chances of my dying in the next 5 years are 3.1%.

I can handle the 3.1%, but 62? Come on! I didn’t even get to submit a photo.

They asked:

1. my age (we’re starting off on the wrong foot here)

2. sex (what it is, not how much)

3. number of children (is only having one super great kid a problem?)

4. how much tobacco I smoke now (none…wait…is pot considered tobacco, I mean, IF I decide to try it?)

5. if I ever smoked tobacco (never)

6. rate my overall health (had to say “good” not “excellent” because I’m still dizzy and, you, know, the hemorrhoid thing)

7. do I have a long-standing illness or disability (hello! chronic fatigue!)

8. my walking pace (score one for me–brisk, Baby!)

9. have I seen a GP for nerves, anxiety, depression or tension (um, who hasn’t? Have you seen the news?)

10. has a doctor told you that you have cancer (odd way of asking this question: yes, but I don’t? no, but I do?)

11. to check off a series of major life stressors, both physical and emotional that happened in the past 2 years (none, whew! But 5 years ago, well…)

12. am I receiving financial assistance (yes, but that doesn’t mean I’m poor, sheesh! My ex-husband owes me that money!)

Do you think this is a valid test of whether or not I’m headed to the mortuary in 5 years?

Why don’t you take the test and tell me your results.

Maybe you’ll feel different after you take it. Maybe…

I did.