It’s a gift. and a curse.

Recently, I’ve been smitten by the character Adrian Monk. The guy is pitiful and helpless, yet courageous and resilient.

Monk is a brilliant detective who worked for the San Francisco Police Department until his wife Trudy died in a car bomb attack that Monk believed was intended for him. Trudy’s death led Monk to suffer a nervous breakdown. He was discharged from the force and became a shut-in, refusing to leave his house for over three years. With the help of Registered Nurse Sharona Fleming (Bitty Schram), he was finally able to leave the house, allowing him to perform consulting work for the police, despite having to deal with his obsessive-compulsive disorder.

I watched the recent season finale. Last week, I think. Now I’m going back to the first season — thanks to lots of help from DVR time-shifting. It’s interesting to see how the characters have developed during the past 6 or 7 years. The rate I’m going, I’ll be caught up on all the episodes by the time the summer season begins.

As much as I like this series, I don’t see myself watching the same episode multiple times — like Gilligans Island, Hogan’s Heroes, and M*A*S*H. Definitely a “one and done” series. But a great way to escape the day for about 40 minutes.

Speaking of which, I’ve got a fresh recording to watch. Pretty sure I’ll conk out again before it’s done, and that’s okay. It’s been a long day.

In a crowd of friendly faces today, I realized how much I care about my friends, neighbors, and colleagues. As painful as life is sometimes, I’d rather love than despise. I’d rather be disappointed than to never believe in miracles. I’d rather be miserable because of love than to be bitter because of hate.

Monk (TV series) – Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

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