Adrian Monk hums as he vacuums. The marks he leaves behind on the carpet form a perfect grid, just the way he likes it. His living room could have come straight out of a Better Homes and Gardens magazine. Monk steps back to admire his handiwork. He nods to himself. A freshly-vacuumed carpet can do wonders to clear a man's mind. Even Adrian Monk's.
Monk turns off the vacuum cleaner. He remembers how his nurse, Sharona Fleming, forced him to buy a bagless one after about three days on the job. His need to change the bag after every use coupled with his fear of all the... the dirt that accumulated there just pushed her over the edge. Bagless it was.
As he's opening the linen closet door to stow the vacuum away, he happens to glance inside his bathroom. Something is amiss. The shower curtain is slanted. The entire shower rod is slanted. Slanted. Crooked. Not straight. Wrong. Monk stops what he's doing. He has to fix it.
Being careful not to slip, Monk slowly adjusts the shower rod until it looks about right. He can't be sure, since Sharona has confiscated every single one of his rulers and tape measures for a week. He steps back. Not quite right. He moves forward again, gently flicking the left side of the rod up a touch with his thumb. He wishes Sharona was with him. She would know what to do. She always does. Usually. Well, now that he thinks about it, usually she just says it's time for breakfast, lunch, dinner, or a snack, depending on the time of day. Monk wonders where she is. Oh, right, he remembers, she's taking Benjy to Tae Kwon Doe. He's alone. With a crooked house.
Adrian continues working. He knows it's not a difficult process, he knows he's got it almost straight. But he needs her there to tell him.
Monk has almost given up on his damned shower. He's almost convinced himself to go out to Home Depot right now, maybe even in a taxi, and buy a new one. He might even install it himself. Or, more likely, just wait for Sharona. But he can't bring himself to spend the money (or ride the taxi) when he's got a perfectly serviceable shower rod right there, right with him. If it just wasn't crooked. Monk starts to pace.
Suddenly, an idea comes to him. He grins at himself. He loves it when he figures things out. Sure, he knows he's got a great mind for detective work -- no one ever said good old Adrian was modest. But it's the little things he needs help with that everyone else can do that get to him. The things that other people don't deliberate over. The things that take other people about ten seconds to decide. The things that other people could do in their sleep.
He pulls one end of the shower rod down, so that it's resting on the place where the shower tiles and the wall meet. Next he shuffles over to the other end and does the same.
It's straight. Right. Good. The shower curtain might be trailing on the floor now, but it's straight.
Wait till he tells Sharona.