Remember when you were a kid and the phone ringing was like a tiny version of Christmas? Every ring promised surprises. Was it the president of Earth calling to tell you that you won a unicorn? Was it your best friend calling to tell you that the president of Earth just called to tell them they won a unicorn? Was it friggin' grandma? Only one way to find out!
The allure of the phone died sometime around age 20 when people who wanted money from you started calling. And sure, now you have caller I.D., so you can see who's calling and enjoy only the calls you want, but that doesn't change the fact you have to look and sneer at each and every number you don't want to be bothered with. You grew into a screener. When you were a kid, the gas company could be calling to tell you that you've been inhaling toxic ass fumes for years, and you'd still think it was awesome. Now you have to debate whether talking to your own mother is worth the hassle of the 60-plus-minute marathon you know it's going to turn into.
A knock at the door was equally awesome when you were a kid. Had a friend come to visit? A distant relative with presents? Holy s**t, did you have mail? You'd run to that door to find out. Now if someone comes over that you didn't invite, you're peering out the crack in the curtain, because f**k you Jehovah's Witnesses, f**k you guy who wants me to switch gas companies, f**k you kid selling overpriced chocolate for his school, and f**k you home invasion. I'm not falling for it.
There's a direct correlation between worldly responsibilities and one's willingness to engage in spur-of-the-moment interactions with other humans. No responsibility as a kid means everyone is awesome and would only call or visit to share that awesomeness. A world of responsibilities means it's bill collectors and repo men and exes and salespeople and ax-murderers 90 percent of the time, and the other 10 percent are just assholes. It's not worth it.