A kafkaesque 24 hours

Funny, things can seem quite bizarre if you put the right spin on everything.
It's been warm, so I fell asleep with my window cracked a bit. The screens don't lock, but I don't really have anything valuable in my bedroom.
Last night, I went to bed, and I had these strange dreams. I woke to shadows in my window, and the screen sliding open. I thought the shadow looked like a cat, so I rolled over, checked my clock that read 3:30, turned on all the lights, drank some water and went back to sleep.
The feral cats visited me in my dreams after that. They came pushing through my dreams and right into my consciousness. I woke again at 4:30, seeing the strange feral shadows and hearing the screens moving again. I sat up in bed, awake, and turned on the lights. I went to the window and sure enough, the window was open to the outside, no screen, nothing. I quickly locked the window, and turned on every light in my apartment, looking for the stray cat that must have jumped into my apartment looking for a warm body. I checked under the bed. In the bathroom. Under my desk. I was still in that vaguely dream-like panic, so I may have even opened a few cupboards and drawers
There weren't any feral cats.
Hardly reassured, I crawled back in bed for a fitful night's sleep.
This morning was a field trip to the UN Memorial. This was quite impressive. The rose bushes, the wall of names, the photographs, and the quietude were really reflective considering my own sister's recent commitment to the war in Afghanistan. It may have been more impressive if the children were not whining about how hot it was and the other teachers were comparing recent drunken binges.
Somehow this juxtaposition just diminished the whole experience for me.
This afternoon was not atypical: Cindy was crying because she didn't get enough attention, Jennifer was crying because Alex called her some name in Korean that I don't know what it means, and Katie was crying because she scraped her knee last week.
Then, one of my neighbors mentioned something about a break-in last night. She lost $200, and someone was definitely at my window, taking random stuff from my window sill with no value and leaving it outside.
Booo.
So much for the feral cats trying to break in. I think I liked that dream better.
Tonight, I met with Dong Won and Meyoung Soon. This is a charming, hospitable, Christian family I met only a week ago. They had me to their home for dinner last week and invited me over tonight. Meyoung Soon began to cry when she heard that I would leave Korea in two months. I wanted to lie and tell her that I certainly was coming back--I did tell her that I may come back, which is not a lie--but I did not know what to tell her. I love this country, and more, I love this town of Meyoung Jong Dong, but I miss my family terribly.
It's somehow strange to have people cry when they don't want you to leave--OK, except for sisters and parents.