To be or not to be ... social

It's a strange thing to be in living in a foreign country, away from all family, friends, loved ones and enemies. There is a need, on one hand, to forge instantaneous, informal and indistinct relationships with whomsoever crosses one's path; but there is also a desire to sideline oneself and find better uses for one's new-found solitude. It that depressive? I don't think so. How many of us have been silently wishing for some REAL free time over the past, say, 8 years? Well now I've got it, and I don't really want to waste it or spend it doing meaningless things. Doing so, however, is much easier said than done when it all comes down to it.

So here I am: about to lose the roommate that was here when I arrived -- about to be thrown into the real sink-or-swim society of Mokpo's English-speaking population. How do I feel? Resentful that I will have to start making an effort. Annoyed that I will start worrying about being "accepted" in this miniature village of misplaced persons. Concerned what will happen. What people will think if I don't make the effort to "get involved"? Sure this all sounds stupid and petty but in the grand scheme of things one year is not very long, and knowing me I will throw myself into "too much stuff" unless I really start thinking seriously about my choices. And in this microcosm that includes chosing or avoiding people. So I'm in inter-personal limbo. Self-inflicted, no doubt. But limbo nonetheless.