These tiny tricks keep me sane.

My overthinking is weirdly specific.

It shows up in the narrowest places.

Not in big strategy calls or pricing decisions, but in tiny moments that shouldn’t matter at all:

• right before I hit ‘send’ on an email

• when 30 open tabs on my computer are staring at me

• when crafting my daily to-do wish list

My brain is my moneymaker. Overthinking is business expense I cannot afford.

So I built a few sanity tricks.

They aren’t efficient. They aren’t logical. But they work for me.

I wouldn’t be surprised if these help you immediately.

The first one is what I call the “send later” placebo.

I have this quirk where I reread emails way too many times before sending.

It doesn’t matter what it is — an invoice, a client reply, a thank-you note. Something in my brain whispers, check it once more, and suddenly ten minutes are gone.

I’m not afraid of the typos; I’m afraid of being misunderstood.

To the point where my fingers become allergic to the send button.

So I don’t “send” emails anymore.

I schedule them.

Whether its in 9 minutes or 17. Doesn’t matter.

That short delay creates an illusion of safety. A placebo of control. Knowing I have a few minutes to cancel (and make a quick fix) quiets the overthinking and lets me move on.

Control doesn’t create time, but it prevents the waste of it.

And it keeps my confidence intact when I communicate.

(Gmail users: that little arrow next to Send is my secret weapon…)

Moving on…to the second. The tab cleanse.

I can tell when my brain has split in too many directions because my computer will tell me.

Indirectly of course.

One tab becomes 10.

10 becomes 50. And nothing’s actually moving.

I can joke about it on Zoom calls.

But when I’m alone, the tab overload is toxic.

7 Chrome windows. 3 Excel files. 2 Word doc. 1 Notion tab. And the Snipping Tool is still open from 3 hours ago.

It’s an audit trail of mental jenga.

That’s my cue to stop.

I (literally) close everything and restart the computer.

Ninety seconds later: clean slate. No tabs. No notifications. No guilt.

A fresh start.

Last but certainly not least is the stop-making-a-wish-list rule.

Digital to-do apps are great. They’re also bottomless bowls.

Sometimes adding tasks feels better than finishing them.

So I went analog. Pen and paper.

But my 8½×11 sheet of paper became a monument of optimism (and denial). I’d end the day with 3 things done and a quiet sense of failure.

Over and over again.

I know why. I wanted the tasks out of my head.

But the reality was simple. My task list was really just a daily wish list.

And there ain’t no genies in business.

So I made the paper smaller. Fold, fold again, cut (or rip, if I’m feeling spicy) into quarter-size sheets.

Less space = fewer lies.

If it doesn’t fit, it doesn’t make the list.

(even still I’m considering making the paper smaller…time will tell)

It sounds childish. It works. Constraints force honesty. Honesty restores momentum.

A shorter list saves time and protects my self-trust, which I’ve learned is the real fuel.

These tiny tricks are absolutely ridiculous. I know this. They’re also effective.

The real enemy isn’t the overthinking itself, it’s the anxiety and guilt that accompanies it.

The best antidote I’ve found is building small moments that make me feel in control, even when logic says I’m not.

Control buys calm. Calm restores focus. Focus makes money.

Thank you for reading.

Be well. Talk soon.

— Peter

P.S. If you overthink like me, these little tricks feel like oxygen. If you have one, please hit reply and share (with me) your irrational-but-effective trick.

Back to pricing next Thursday.