I see the question forming on my interrogator’s tongue and my body stiffens.  I know just what this young man wants to know…  “What are…”  Please, not right now…  “you doing”… ok, just ask it, “next year?” My knee starts to shake and I blow air out my mouth.  I giggle, and then I choke. My interrogator rustles his brow, so I look away and play with the coaster on the table. See, the answer to his question is that I just don’t know.