What are you doing here?

For about a year and a half now, the first two questions I'm usually asked upon meeting a complete stranger are: A) What are you doing here? B) How long are you planning on staying? I realize these questions seem only natural for the asker, who is only trying to make polite conversation, but the cumulative effect of having to answer them on a nearly daily basis over such a long period of time is that I'm made to feel like a freakin' alien. Maybe I'm just bitter because I haven't come up with a good answer to either. I really don't know what I'm doing in Berlin. I'm not working much. I'm not studying much. I could lie and say that I'm gestating but mostly I'm just hanging out, going to parties, scribbling things into notebooks. I also spend a lot of time hoping I by some miracle (or cunninglinguis) continue to meet my visa requirements despite the government's attempts to suffocate us non-EUers in as much red tape as it takes. The stress of this coupled with the everyday strain of not being able to communicate clearly to the world surrounding me even the most basic of concepts (for example "I'm not an employee of Karstadt, fuck off old lady") inflated by the relentless stream of life-changing situations I've had to deal with on German soil has seriously started to get to me. Or maybe I'm just having one of those days where I'd rather be home and not need an excuse to be where I am or to explain how long I plan on being there. Maybe it's just one of those days and tomorrow I won't feel like I need the questions to stop that badly. I'll just smile and say, "Just living, and you?"