There's a particular type of madness that overtakes you when you get too deep into productivity tools. It starts innocently enough, maybe with a single app that promises to organize your life, declutter your mind, or finally help you wrestle your to-do list into submission.

But soon, you're lost in a labyrinth of optimization, experimenting with nested tags, color-coded priorities, markdown notes, and automated workflows that nobody but a robot could love.

Before you know it, you've spent more time trying to perfect your "system" than actually doing the things the system was supposed to help you with.

I know this because I've been there.

And then, pretty recently, I stopped.

I stripped everything back. Apple Notes. Reminders. Safari. Pages. Safari's reading list for articles I want to check out later. That's it. Just the apps that came pre-installed on my laptop, tools so basic they practically blend into the wallpaper. They're not flashy. They don't have cult followings or slick YouTube tutorials detailing secret features. They don't have quirky mascots begging for feedback. But they're there, sitting quietly in my dock, always ready to go. And they work.

The result of this radical simplification? My productivity and output have soared. Not improved. Not "marginally better." I'm talking about the kind of leap that feels almost embarrassing because it makes you realize how much time you wasted before.

I write between 5,000–10,000 words a day. I keep up with multiple social platforms. I pitch, I help folks where I can, and I read and take notes extensively. Each of those things takes up enough of my time before throwing in Obsidian plugins and tag management.

Hard to swallow pill: productivity tool optimization is a distraction. A tempting, seductive, oh-so-logical-seeming distraction, but a distraction nonetheless. It feels like progress. It feels like you're doing something important when you spend an entire afternoon choosing between Roam Research and Obsidian, tweaking shortcuts in Notion, or setting up a Zapier automation that pings your Slack channel when someone updates a Google Sheet. But you're not. You're just spinning your wheels, trying to win a game that doesn't matter.

The irony is, these tools are supposed to save us time. That's the pitch, right? Invest a little effort upfront, and you'll be rewarded with a sleek, efficient system that runs like clockwork. Only it rarely works that way. Instead, the tools become another layer of complexity in a world already drowning in it. They demand maintenance. They tempt you into constant tinkering. And worst of all, they give you a false sense of accomplishment. You've perfected your system, sure — but what have you actually done?

By going back to basics, I forced myself to confront that question. When your toolkit is as barebones as Apple Notes and Safari, you can't hide behind your setup. There's no elaborate architecture to tweak, no clever hack to implement. You just… work. You make a list of things you need to do, and you do them. You have an idea, and you write it down. You come across something interesting, and you save it for later. That's it. And the simplicity of it is liberating.

Let me paint you a picture of my current workflow. It's not sexy. It's not the kind of thing that productivity influencers would use as a case study in their next course. But it works. When I have an idea or a task, I jot it down in Apple Notes. Just a quick sentence or two in a plain text note. When I need to keep track of a deadline or remind myself to do something, I use Reminders. Again, no frills. Just a date and a time. If I come across an article I want to read, I throw it into Safari's reading list. And when I need to write something longer — like this — I open Pages. That's it. Four apps. No plugins, no integrations, no endless customization options. Just the digital equivalent of pen and paper.

This minimalist approach has been a revelation. It's not just that I'm more productive (although I am); it's that I feel less stressed, less fragmented. When you're juggling a dozen different tools, your attention gets pulled in a dozen different directions. You're constantly switching contexts, translating information from one app to another, remembering which tool does what. It's exhausting. By stripping everything back, I've eliminated that mental overhead. I know where everything is. I know how everything works. And I know that none of it is getting in the way of what really matters: doing the work.

I won't pretend that this approach is for everyone. If you're managing a team of fifty or running a multimillion-dollar business, you might need something more sophisticated. But for most of us — for freelancers, creatives, knowledge workers — the basics are enough. We don't need an app to build complex graphs we never look at, or an AI-powered dashboard to track how many Pomodoros we've completed. We just need a place to store our thoughts, a way to organize our tasks, and the discipline to follow through. Everything else is noise.

Remember, the this tool addiction, this compulsion isn't cheap either. Productivity tools have a way of nickel-and-diming you to death. Five dollars a month for this app, ten for that one, fifty a year for a "pro" subscription that unlocks features you probably won't use. It adds up. By sticking with the default apps on my laptop, I'm not just saving time — I'm saving money. And honestly, Apple Notes is more than good enough for what I need. What I care about is getting my ideas down quickly and easily, and it does that perfectly.

What I've realized is that productivity has fuck-all to do with the tools you use; it's the mindset you bring to your work. You can have the most sophisticated system in the world, but if you're constantly procrastinating, overthinking, or chasing shiny objects, it won't save you. You can have the simplest setup imaginable and still get a ton of work done if you're focused and disciplined. The tools are just tools. You're the one who has to wield them.

If you're feeling overwhelmed by your current setup, if you're spending more time organizing your work than actually doing it, consider going back to basics. Delete the apps you don't need. Stop chasing the latest productivity trends. Resist the urge to optimize for the sake of optimizing. Instead, ask yourself: what's the simplest way to get the job done? And then do that.