"So, what are your plans for next year?"

Yes, seniors, we hate this question.

At least those of us whose answer is always a sort of sad, semi-embarrassed, low, resentful "I don't know."

The one thing we DO know is that we can't stand that question.

The phenomenon starts very early on, sometimes in the summer before senior year even begins. It's like a wave, a current of perpetual interest that breezes through every level and circle of people you know. "What are you doing next year? Do you have a job?" It flows and whispers throughout conversations like the wind. And your eldest relatives are always the first to blow the current your way.

September interrogations from Grandma and Uncle Jim aren't so bad. "They're just curious what I'd ideally like to do, where I might want to live. Just humor them and tell them you're weighing the options (which are usually none at this point) and that you'll decide later in the year."

Soon Mom and Dad make one of their weekend calls: Oh, so-and-so down the street was asking about you. I told her you were good, that Notre Dame is treating you well. Oh, she was so proud. She asked if you had a job yet. Do you? Have you heard? Oh by the way, ARE you living at home next year?

"Tell Mrs. So-and-so nope, no clue. I just want to be on some payroll somewhere sometime next year."

By Halloween we're already nervous. Asked so many times, it seems we should have our entire lives figured out. "Oh God, you're right, I DON'T have a job. What will I tell my family?"

It gets so we fear the holidays. Thanksgiving rolls around and cousins no longer ask but advise. "Maybe you should think of grad school or something." Christmas is no longer the season of joy but a day-long career counseling session. We count down the days to breaks, but cower at being prodded by aunts and investigated by uncles.

Our relatives make us prisoners in our own uncertainty.

Only after essentially every "adult" you know has posed the question do you feel like your fellow students catch the question bug.

There are two reasons why a student would ask another student about post-graduation plans:

1) He/She has a job. (Usually THE job; will either reside in New York or Chicago) or

2) He/She is desperate to know someone else is as clueless about the future.

But this question is not going to go away. It's unavoidable. We should simply escape the inquisition the easiest way possible: run. Just run away.

Imagine the confusion, imagine the sight: hundreds of men and women, dashing to and fro out on the quads. Dropping books, papers, everything to flee from the one question that haunts them day and night.

As soon as the words pass the questioner's lips, they scurry.

And the questioner is left standing confused and alone. Only then will he know how we feel.

• Just Run Away