Do you ever pause and anxiously scramble for that perfectly sculpted fairy-tale response to appear in your mind when people ask the unnerving question “where do you plan to be in 5 years?”

I usually avoid this question like the plague and take it as lightly as my heart will allow. But as I sit here now meticulously pondering this question I’ve come to realize it has more than likely manifested by my undying fear of the unknown, rejection and the apprehension that the future I had hoped for would result in crumbling dreams and aspirations. Even the slightest thoughts about the future had previously made me sick to my stomach, and even now I still catch my wondering becoming obsessive at times when I contemplate how I could possibly think about where I hypothetically ‘could’ be in 5 years, when I can’t even figure out where I theoretically ‘should’ be.