Chronicling overkill: A syndrome characterized by a compulsion to chronicle mundane details from one's life. Said chronicling includes - but is not limited to - books finished, movies viewed, music listened to, places visited.
The entries in my book journals routinely begin with a sentence describing either how I learned of or why I chose to read the book in question. Straightforward enough, right? If you keep a book journal, do you include something like this to help you recall how you came to read something? Reasonably normal behavior, wouldn't you agree?
Several weeks back, that straightforward opening to an entry for Elizabeth Strout's Tell Me Everything (2024) catapulted me into chronicling overkill. I quickly filled a full page in my book journal before realizing how carried away I'd gotten. Lest you recommend medication, I'll spare you further details about the cavernous rabbit hole I descended into that morning. One saving grace: I was able to climb out after inventing a syndrome which helped me rationalize my aberrant behavior.
Unfortunately, long before I named it, chronicling overkill had me in its grip. And though I expect no one to join me in the bell curve confession booth - at least not publicly - it's always nice to know at least a few other people share my struggle. Is there perhaps a need for a support group?
Historians Gone Awry, anyone?
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