If you are a senior, you’re probably getting sick of certain questions. First and foremost, “Do you know what you’re doing after high school?” Then there’s the variation for the definitely college-bound: “Have you decided where to go to college yet?” And of course, let’s not forget the follow-up, “Do you know what you want to study?” Come to think of it, you may be hearing these questions quite often even if you’re not a senior.

In the interests of preserving our collective sanity as second-semester seniors and, in a broader sense, the generation of the future, I humbly offer the following techniques for dealing with this plague of questions. Unless you have the answers, in which case I humbly request that you not speak to me for the next ten years.

One tried-and-true strategy is to tell people you’re going to the South. This may not work with people who are from the South, familiar with the South, or extraordinarily open-minded. However, I know from personal experience that many if not most Midwesterners will not know quite how to respond to your announcement that you’d like to go to school in the South.

During my own brief, but sincere, period of longing for sixty-degree winters and Atticus Finch accents, I observed an entertaining and informative array of reactions, ranging from “Why?” to the polite, wide-eyed, “Did you have any schools in mind?” There is something about the South that puzzles the typical Shorewood parent or teacher, and there is no reason you should not take advantage of their puzzlement, whether or not you actually plan to head south.

On the other hand, honesty is often the best policy. Miss Manners might ask that you add politeness to honesty and blend well for best results, but it’s mid-March and anyone who insists of initiating a conversation about a young person’s future must be prepared for whatever comes out.

That means we are free to use these annoying, life-plan questions as opportunities to Express Our Feelings. If you are comfortable venting to strangers, or distant acquaintances, this is your best bet. Go ahead and tell your parents’ friends’ niece that the long wait for response from colleges is gnawing at your soul, if that is the case. Go ahead and tell her that frankly, you worry about living with a roommate because of a highly personal hygienic issue you have acquired in the past few years.

Brevity might become your best friend, if you, like me, are simply tired of being asked and having no answer. Rather than listing the schools you applied to or the paths you are considering taking for the next year, whip out the stall tactic: “I’ll decide where I’m going when I hear back from all my colleges.” Then run away before they can ask what those colleges are, making sure to flash a quick smile over your shoulder first.

The worst question is, arguably, the one about what you plan to study. It’s not that people who ask it mean to remind you of our aimlessness in life, our lack of any defined strength, or our inability to commit to a course of action even if it appeals to us. They mean well, I think.

Perhaps our society should be trying to teach its youth to form concrete life goals at an early age. Until it does, however, you are entitled to make up a field of study whenever anyone asks you this question, and then cast a scornful glance in the direction of the interrogator when his eyebrows shoot up into his hairline.

Most importantly, be creative. Maybe your extended family has a fear of foreigners – tell them you only applied to French universities. Maybe you’ve already honestly changed your mind a few times – offer a different response in every conversation.

Just try not to commit any felonies against the people who ask you about your future. That way, we can all be sure to experience it as a concrete present instead of a path of uncertain twists and turns.