Paint fumes are real, people.

I've been painting baseboards.

I've been painting so many baseboards that I started thinking that I am the most amazing baseboard painter ever. My skill at free-handing trim paint is the thing legends are made of! My steady hand and raw talent is revolutionizing home rehabilitation.

Then, it got weird.

I started thinking that I'd probably be feted at the Kennedy Center Honors in recognition of my skill with a 1 1/2" angled brush.

Who would talk about me? Would they get Bob Vila to wax poetic about how I am a huge inspiration to him? Would I have to act like I wasn't pissed off when some big boobed, botoxed HGTV host who pretends to be a contractor but really just gets in the way talks about me? Except the Kennedy Honors shows seem to be really chill and classy. They'd find some good folks to talk about me.

And the little movie about my paint transformations? Well, they could show before and after footage of my 3 houses ... and the countless rooms I've painted for friends. Most people have "The Truck Friend" who helps them move. I am "The Paint Friend," who also loves to caulk.

I got mad skillz, yo.

But what would I wear to the Kennedy Center Honors? It almost seems appropriate to wear my very stinky painting clothes. However, that might be kind of awkward, seeing as how everyone else - including the president - will be in black tie. Oh, conundrum.

This is the stuff I think about while crawling around, getting paint in my hair.

And yes, I do realize that I need to get out more. Out of the fumes.