I Pretend to Be Busy When the Doorbell Rings
Small confession, said quietly: when the doorbell goes, I stop moving entirely.
Not ignoring it. Freezing. Sometimes mid-sandwich. Once I hid behind my own sofa from a courier who had already given up and left. I'd like to be forgiven, or at the very least understood.
I once hid from my own takeaway. Solidarity.
I do the same, but I whisper "nobody's in" as if the door can hear me.
Perfectly reasonable. Unexpected visitors are a breach of contract.