Social Anxiety: The Online Edition!

I can just imagine the response that an email from me must elicit. First vague excitement over having received an email, followed by vague exasperation upon realizing it's from me, followed by mocking of all of the stupid things I say. When I write to people over the internet, I invariably feel as though I'm making unsolicited demands on their time. It's like I'm saying, "Think about me! Me! I know you probably came on the internet to do other things, but I ask, nay, I demand that you take the time to read what I say and write a thoughtful and insightful response. But if you don't, I mean, that's fine. Whatever. I will, however, assume that you hate me if you never write back."

I think I really need to stop assuming that everyone hates me.

What terrifies me most about internet communication, though, is that I can't see people's reactions. So, unlike in the real world, I can't watch their facial expressions changing slowly to distaste or confusion, indicating that I should probably change the topic of conversation. If an internet conversation were a real-life conversation, it would probably be like talking at a completely expressionless face, then waiting a few minutes, maybe a few days, for a reaction. And the whole time, you're just staring at this blank face, waiting, wondering, hoping you haven't made some irredeemable social blunder. Knowing yourself, you probably have.

Creepy, isn't it?

As of a few weeks ago, the problems associated with internet communication have become a point of major concern. See, I began the process of London flathunting with the naive belief that I would engage in one exchange with the perfect future flatmates, we would quickly develop a mutual affection for each other and I would be done. Yeah, it wasn't quite like that. Instead, I had to send off at least 20 unsolicited emails to various people, trying to persuade them of my sanity and asking if they would like to meet with me during my brief upcoming visit to London. Fortunately, a few of them must have believed that I'm not one of those I'll-sneak-into-your-room-and-watch-you-while-you-sleep kind of people (which, thank you very much, I'm not), and they agreed to meet with me. Then, as luck would have it, I really liked the first people I met with, and they must have liked me too, since they offered to form a flathunting group with me. The only issue with all of this is that I haven't communicated with either of them since returning home from London a week ago.

I daresay there will be some awkward emails in my future.