Say no by default so every yes protects something that matters

A founder’s calendar was a graveyard of nice‑to‑have meetings. She said yes because nothing else was scheduled three weeks out. When those days finally arrived, they collided with deadlines, a sick kid, and a much‑needed workout. She started using three simple scripts. One cited a deadline, another reserved time for paying clients, and the third offered a far‑off slot. Within a month, her week had more open sky.

There’s a tiny story her team still tells. A student asked her to guest‑speak with no honorarium. She replied, “Thanks for thinking of me. I’m on a tight deadline through April and only taking on client commitments. Here are two colleagues who’d be great.” It was kind, brief, and firm. The student replied with thanks and found someone else.

When a coffee invite felt promising, she batched them into ‘last Friday office hours’ at the same café. The staff knew her order by the second month. Curious conversations still happened, but they no longer split her focus across the week. She could feel her phone vibrate with new requests and not flinch.

The logic is straight, even if it’s hard. Every yes is a no to something else, often the quiet priorities like sleep, health, and deep work. Behavioral economics calls this opportunity cost, and we tend to underestimate it—especially for distant commitments that look small from far away. Scripts reduce decision fatigue, batching reduces switching costs, and the ‘hell yes’ rule protects your best energy for what you do best. Saying no is not selfish; it’s stewardship of your limited minutes.

Adopt ‘hell yes or no’ as your rule, then paste brief scripts when requests come in so you don’t over‑negotiate. Before any yes, name what it will displace—a workout, a bedtime story, or a draft—so the cost is clear, and corral the genuine maybes into a single recurring office‑hours block. You’ll still be generous, just not at the expense of your best work. Try sending one scripted ‘no’ today.