Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Monk Moment #1..........
If you have ever watched the television series Monk, you will totally understand what I'm talking about. I always knew I had a few of Monk's characteristics in me, but I didn't know what to call them. Except idiosyncrasies. Emphasis on idio. After I started watching recorded episodes of the series (starting at the beginning and proceeding in order, of course), I started NOTICING more and more how many little things I have in common with Monk. I'm not a germophobe, of course, but there are some things that I fixate on and can't seem to let them go. I have determined lately that the degree of control I have over whatever is bothering me determines whether or not I can let go of it. If I can fix it, generally I HAVE to fix it. If it's something I CAN'T fix, then I don't let it bother me.
For example, on the last bike ride that Katydid and I did (that sounds stupid, doesn't it?), we rode by the same building twice a day three days in a row. In the front window of this building, the blinds were askew. You know what I mean, one slat out of line and therefore showing a gap. Someone on the INSIDE of that building really should have fixed that blind. But since it was the weekend, and the building was closed, I couldn't fix the blind myself. So I shrugged it off and forgot about it. [Side note: If it had been a weekday, and that window had been in a public room, and I had been able to get in there, I probably would have fixed it.]
Monday night we went to a seminar about laser vision surgery. There was a whiteboard on which the presentation was to be displayed. There were Expo markers and an eraser in the marker-and-eraser-holder underneath the whiteboard. I'm sure it has a real name; in the old days it would have been the chalk tray, but who uses chalk anymore?
The eraser in the tray was dead center relative to the whiteboard. So far so good. There were twelve markers, an even number. Getting better. There were six markers on one side of the eraser and six markers on the other. Nearly perfect. ONE OF THE MARKERS ON THE RIGHT WAS FACING THE WRONG WAY. I looked at that marker; looked at hubby; looked at that marker; looked at hubby. Hubby looked puzzled. I whispered, "I'm having a Monk moment." Just as I was about to get up and turn the marker around, the doctor came in to start the seminar. I think hubby was relieved.