Sticky notes

 Larry was the kind of person who loved the look of productivity. His laptop was a mosaic of neon sticky notes with bright yellows, pinks, and greens plastered haphazardly across the lid. His office walls were no different; they looked like a chaotic art installation of half-formed ideas, reminders, and unchecked to-dos.

At first glance, Larry seemed like the hardest worker in the room. He thrived on the aesthetic of busyness, the satisfying crinkle of a fresh sticky note, the way his desk looked like a war room of important tasks. His colleagues would glance over and think, Wow, he must be swamped with critical work. And that’s exactly what Larry wanted them to think.

The problem? Most of those sticky notes never moved. Deadlines came and went. Projects stalled. Yet Larry took pride in the appearance of effort. He’d snap photos of his sticky-note-covered workspace and post them with captions like, "No rest for the driven!" or "When your to-do list has a to-do list." The more notes he added, the more he convinced himself and others that he was indispensable.

Then came the wake-up call. During a team review, his manager asked, "What did you actually accomplish last quarter?" Larry gestured to his sticky-note fortress. "Look at all this!" he said. His manager paused. "But which of these turned into results?"

Silence.

The truth was, Larry had confused motion for progress. The sticky notes weren’t a roadmap, they were a distraction, a way to feel productive without truly producing. Real professionalism wasn’t in the spectacle of busyness, but in the quiet discipline of meaningful work.

Slowly, Larry peeled off the sticky notes one by one, until only three remained: Clarity. Depth. Impact.

This time, he wasn’t just looking productive. He actually was.