How a Simple List Helped Me Stop Saying Yes to Everything
A few years ago, I was burned out. Not the "I need a vacation" kind — the kind where you start questioning whether you should be in this career at all.
The problem wasn't the work itself. I love development. The problem was clients.
Despite communicating clearly that I'd have days off, they'd message anyway. Despite agreeing on priorities, every new request became urgent and overrode whatever I was currently working on. I'd start my week with a plan, and by Wednesday that plan was completely derailed by "quick" requests and "urgent" changes.
The result? A growing pile of work debt that never got paid off. Features half-finished. Refactoring postponed indefinitely. The important-but-not-urgent work that keeps projects healthy — always pushed to "next week."
I was exhausted, frustrated, and seriously considering a career change.
Then I read two books and found a tool that changed everything. Not by making me more productive, but by giving me a way to communicate boundaries and manage expectations — with my clients and with myself.
The Two Books That Shifted My Perspective
Atomic Habits by James Clear taught me that systems beat intentions. You don't rise to the level of your goals — you fall to the level of your systems. I had good intentions about managing client expectations, but no system to back them up.
The Checklist Manifesto by Atul Gawande showed me that externalizing information isn't a crutch — it's what professionals do. Surgeons use checklists. Pilots use checklists. Not because they're forgetful, but because having everything visible and documented prevents things from slipping through the cracks.
Reading these books, I realized my problem wasn't discipline or memory. My problem was that everything lived in my head, which meant clients could easily override it. If I couldn't point to a concrete list of what I was working on, every new request felt equally valid. Equally urgent. Equally deserving of my immediate attention.
I needed something external. Something I could reference. Something that would help me say "here's what's on my plate, here's where your request fits, here's what to expect."
Enter Todoist
I'd tried todo apps before and bounced off them. But this time I approached Todoist with a different purpose: not just to remember tasks, but to make my workload visible — to myself and to clients.
The philosophy is simple: if something needs to happen, it goes in Todoist. Immediately. No exceptions.
That feature request the client mentioned? In the list, with a realistic date. The bug they reported? In the list, prioritized against everything else. The "quick thing" they asked for? In the list, so I can show them what it's competing with.
This changed everything about client communication.
The Real Power: Making Work Visible
Before Todoist, conversations with clients went like this:
Client: "Can you add this feature?" Me: "Sure, I'll work on it."
Then I'd scramble to fit it in, pushing other things aside, creating debt I'd never pay off.
Now the conversation goes like this:
Client: "Can you add this feature?" Me: "Absolutely. Right now I'm working on X, and I have Y and Z queued up. I can get to this next week, or if it's urgent, tell me what you'd like me to deprioritize."
This isn't confrontational. It's informative. The client can see what they're asking for in context. They can make an informed decision about priority instead of assuming everything can happen immediately.
And crucially, I have something to point to. The list isn't just in my head — it exists. It's real. It's not me being difficult; it's me being organized.
Stopping the Override Problem
The pattern that was killing me: every new client request would override what I was currently working on.
Without a visible system, this felt impossible to push back on. The new request was concrete and immediate. The work I was already doing was abstract and easy to postpone. So I'd switch context, start the new thing, and the old thing would join the pile of unfinished work.
The list fixed this.
When everything is written down with dates and priorities, a new request doesn't automatically override anything. It gets added to the list. Then we have a conversation about where it fits. Maybe it genuinely is more urgent — fine, we move things around. Maybe it can wait until next week — great, it's scheduled.
Either way, the decision is explicit. Nothing gets silently pushed aside. Nothing accumulates as invisible debt.
Recurring Tasks: The Backbone
The feature that made Todoist essential is recurring tasks.
Every workday, certain tasks appear automatically:
- Check client messages and respond
- Update project status
- Review priorities for tomorrow
These aren't exciting. But they're the habits that keep client relationships healthy. Regular communication. Proactive updates. No surprises.
Before recurring tasks, I'd have "good weeks" where I communicated well and "bad weeks" where clients felt ignored. Now there's no variation. The system prompts me every single day.
The 20-Minute Rule
Here's a small habit that prevents a lot of problems: if something needs to happen, even if it's 20 minutes from now, it goes in the list.
Client mentions something in passing? In the list. I think of a question I need to ask? In the list. Small task I'll "definitely remember"? In the list.
This sounds excessive, but it's the opposite. Once something is captured, I stop thinking about it. I don't have to hold it in my head. I don't have to worry about forgetting. The list remembers.
And nothing falls through the cracks. Nothing gets forgotten and resurfaces as a "why didn't you do this?" conversation later.
The Gamification Hook
I'll admit something: the gamification aspect of Todoist is what keeps me opening it every single day.
Karma points. Streaks. Levels. A little dopamine hit every time I check something off.
This is what James Clear calls "making it satisfying." The task itself might not be exciting, but completing it and watching the streak continue? That feels good. And that good feeling is what built the habit.
I've maintained my streak for months now. Not through willpower — through a system designed to be rewarding.
Communicating Days Off
Remember my original problem? Clients who'd message during days off, despite being told in advance?
The list helps here too.
Before I take time off, I send a clear update: "Here's what I've completed. Here's what's in progress. Here's what's scheduled for when I'm back. I'll be offline from X to Y."
This isn't just a courtesy — it's documentation. If something comes up while I'm away, we can reference the list. The client knows exactly where things stand. There's no ambiguity, no "but I thought you were going to..."
And psychologically, it's easier to hold boundaries when you've documented everything. I'm not being unavailable — I'm following the plan we both agreed to.
Paying Off the Debt
The work debt I mentioned — the half-finished features, the postponed refactoring, the important-but-not-urgent improvements — this was the hardest thing to fix.
The list helped by making the debt visible. Not as vague guilt ("I really should refactor that module...") but as actual items with dates. When I look at my week, I see client requests AND the maintenance work that keeps projects healthy.
This lets me have honest conversations: "I want to spend Friday on code cleanup and performance improvements. No new features that day." Clients understand this. They want their projects to be healthy too.
Without the list, this work would stay invisible and never happen. With the list, it's scheduled, tracked, and protected from being overridden.
It's Not About the App
I should be clear: Todoist isn't magic. The magic is in the approach:
Make work visible. Everything written down, with dates and priorities. Nothing hiding in your head where clients can't see it.
Use the list in conversations. When new requests come in, reference the list. Show what's already planned. Make prioritization a joint decision.
Capture everything immediately. The 20-minute task. The passing comment. The small request. All of it goes in the list so nothing falls through the cracks.
Recurring tasks for communication habits. Daily check-ins, status updates, priority reviews. The system prompts you so you don't rely on memory.
Todoist happens to do all these things well, which is why I've stuck with it. But the principles matter more than the tool.
The Books Are Worth Reading
If any of this resonates, read the books.
Atomic Habits will change how you think about building sustainable practices. It's not about motivation or willpower — it's about systems that make good behavior automatic.
The Checklist Manifesto will convince you that writing things down isn't a sign of weakness — it's what professionals do to handle complexity.
Together, they gave me the framework to stop drowning in client requests and start managing them intentionally.
If You're Where I Was
If you're burned out from client management — feeling like you're always reactive, always behind, always at the mercy of whoever messages you next — I'm not going to tell you that a todo app will fix everything.
But I will tell you this: having a system changes the dynamic.
When your work is visible, you can point to it. When everything is captured, nothing gets forgotten. When priorities are explicit, you can have real conversations about tradeoffs instead of just saying yes to everything.
You stop being the person who scrambles to accommodate every request. You become the person who manages a workload professionally, communicates clearly, and delivers reliably.
That shift — from reactive to intentional — is what pulled me out of burnout. Not by working less, but by working with a system that protected my time and sanity.
The career change? Never happened. I just needed better tools.