It occurred to me tonight as I was doing dishes that there's a reason Hamlet is my favorite of Shakespeare's tragedies. (Yeah, I think about stuff like that while doing the dishes. I'm a little crazy that way.)
Anyway, even as a teenager I sympathized and identified with Hamlet even when I could see how his actions were leading him to disaster. I totally get how Hamlet behaves in that play, with his moral indignation at odds with his need to consider things from every possible perspective, and his fatal tendency to "think too precisely on the event" when he ought to be taking action. Because he's so very like me that way.
I overthink everything, and more often than not I end up talking myself out of doing anything whatsoever. (This is particularly disastrous when I go shopping, as you might imagine.) It's really easy to convince myself that having given the matter some serious thought, even if nobody else in the entire world but me and God knows that I thought about it at all, is enough.
So no wonder I don't blog much these days. I think so hard about what I should post and whether I should post and whether I have the mental energy to write a really good post or not (and the answer is, most often, "not"), that nine-tenths of my thoughts and opinions never make it to the end of my fingers. Which has the advantage of keeping me from saying things I might later regret, but that hardly seems important if I don't end up saying much of anything at all.
Which is a rambling way of saying that I'm going to try and overcome that, and blog more often from now on. Just so I don't end up killing myself and my whole family leaving only my best friend to mourn me, you understand.
(P.S. I said that I get Hamlet, but I should mention that my favorite character in that whole play is Horatio.)