Mr. Monk is one of my favorite TV shows. I am so captivated with the character that when I used to go to the library (pre-Kindle), I read every book in the Mr. Monk series. I think there are three main reasons for my fascination: I enjoy mysteries, I hate the graphic gore integral to most TV shows, and the character’s OCD feels eerily familiar.

In Lee Goldberg’s book, “Mr. Monk on the Couch,” there was a conversation between Mr. Monk and Dr. Kroger, his beloved psychiatrist, that I found particularly intriguing:

Then you’re saying we just naturally drift into what we’re best at…and then find a reason to invest ourselves in it so we can keep on doing it. We find our place in life and then, if we are very lucky, we find a way to love it.

That sounds a lot like self-delusion to me.

Isn’t that what happiness is?