I had once asked someone to build a cabinet for me. What follows is a summary of their response that I found refreshingly blunt and profoundly honest:

Whatever you do, don’t call me a cabinet maker.

Nothing against the cabinet maker. Why, cabinet makers are the very salt of the earth that seasons the meal we call life. They are the very backbone that stabilizes kitchen decor. They chart the stars through the fashion of time. They answer the prayers of cramped interior designers at wit’s end between idealistic dreams and the harsh indifference of reality. We would not be here today without them, truly.

But, I can’t build a cabinet to save my life. I can’t adhere any shape, plank, or fissile material together whether the world is watching or not. I was, in fact, not into Legos as a kid.

I’m not saying you’re asking. I’m not saying I’m wanting. All I’m saying is what I can and cannot do, who I am, and who I am not. I would not want to mislead. I wouldn’t want to promise that I could build a cabinet in a couple of months and realize on the day that I am, in all matters of common sense, not a cabinet maker.

I, myself, do need a cabinet maker every now and then if you know anyone else though.