I wonder if I spend too much time inside my head

I blew off a cocktail party this evening in favor of coming home to my apartment and being by myself. First of all, it's important to explain that this was a work-related party. Tonight was our gala, our major fund-raising event of the year. Staff are not invited to the meal and all that, but we are allowed to come to the cocktail reception beforehand. Well, I hate my job (as has been well-documented here), so why would I want to extend that into my own time? To me it also feels very condescending, like allowing the servants upstairs into the master's house on Christmas Day or something. And I was not alone in this; everyone who had not been roped into working the event took off as soon as they could. But it made me wonder, once I got home, if I spend too much time alone inside my head. I have a very rich and enormous inner life, as I think everyone who hangs out in the cyberplaces I do has. (Bad syntax there, but fuck it.) Still, is it a healthy thing to prefer the vast inner spaces of your head to the company of the jerks in the living world around you? I kind of loaded that question, didn't I? But you get the idea. I don't have an answer to this. I'm arguing it out with myself. And guess what, both sides are winning. But the thing is, I love live human company -- the right company, anyway. I thrive on conversation and shared jokes and all that stuff that sociologists say is typical of humans. But I'm also perfectly happy to wander off into the wilds of my mind. It occurred to me only recently that maybe not everyone has as much going on inside their heads. Maybe they've just got a few little sparsely furnished rooms instead of a whole universe. Maybe they don't really care about going exploring in there. Or maybe I'm just really weird. Either way, I'm really happy I didn't have to go to the stupid party this evening.