A meandering response to a ridiculous question

It's a question I was asked during a scholarship interview, and I found myself fumbling - I didn't know why at the time why this question in particular threw me off completely, but now I do: It's ridiculous. Here's the question:

"Where do you imagine yourself in 10 years?"

Let's put this in to context (at the time). I am 17, very nearly 18 years old. I'm a senior in high school. I'm still debating between colleges. I only know I want to be an English major because English is the only area I have had a chance to explore, discover I have an affinity for it, and most importantly love it. I have so many dreams I don't know which one I want to explore, or if they are even feasible at this point.

Here's a rundown of professions I have briefly or not-so-briefly entertained: a veterinarian, a fiction writer, a reporter, a literary editor, a newspaper/magazine editor, a contributing staff writer, a photographer, a stunt double, a screen writer, a special effects coordinator, an actress, a publishing mogul, a lawyer, a singer, a freelance writer, a musician.

Those are the ones that spring to mind anyway. And you know what? No matter how old you get, once you have a dream, it never completely lets you go. A part of you always yearns to be that, even if it's not possible, even if it's not probable, even if you have discovered something else you want more.

Most importantly is that I don't know what dreams will become attainable by careful planning. I don't which ones will be attainable when/if Fate intervenes. Say I audition for a play, and get a good part. A movie producer or an actor or something comes along and sees me and offers me a role in a movie, or gets me an agent. Becoming an actress seems very likely, no? But say, a year or two or more or less, I write a novel and manage to get it published. What do you know, a dream is accomplished, because I took a class or I finally disciplined myself into sitting down and forming a piece of publishable literature.

Or say I complete college and land a job at a publishing firm. Say that I become a newspaper writer/editor for the college newspaper and my resume builds up so I get a job for the Chicago Sun-Times.

Idon'tknow.

"Where do you see yourself in ten years?"
Now that you see me, see what's in my head, tell me, how can I answer that? Explain to the interview in a few seconds what it just took me roughly five minutes to write? Time is money, very literally in this case. No way could I give a feasible answer except, I don't know. I don't know where I'm going to be because my life is still very much open to interpretation. It's an ambiguity.
(There you go, Professor Suda and Hale.)

In my eyes, that's a good thing. I would undoubtedly be very depressed if I knew exactly where my life was going to be in ten years, when I was only 17-18 years old. I don't want to know. I want to be happy. That's about all I can think of. And I think that's all I can feasibly imagine at this point.

It doesn't take Fate or careful planning to be happy. You just have to look at life, and be happy with what you see. The way I look at is this: if I don't know where my life is going to be, I have hope. And I am happy with that.