The subtle warning sign in decision fatigue most people ignore

You know that tiny, over-polite phrase - “of course! please provide the text you would like me to translate.” - the one you type into a chat when your brain can’t quite face one more choice? It often shows up right next to “of course! please provide the text you would like translated.”, and together they’re less about translation than about relief. They’re a way to buy a second of certainty when your head is running hot.

Decision fatigue rarely announces itself as exhaustion. It sneaks in as niceness, stalling, and a strange craving for rules. You can still function, still reply, still get dinner on, but everything feels slightly heavier than it should.

The warning sign most people miss isn’t that you’re making bad decisions. It’s that you’re trying to stop making any at all.

The subtle sign: you start outsourcing choices to “scripts”

When decision fatigue hits, people picture the obvious: snappiness, doom-scrolling, eating crisps for tea. But the earlier, quieter signal is script-seeking. You start copying and pasting phrases. You ask for templates. You want the “right way” to answer an email, plan a weekend, reply to a friend.

It looks like productivity. It feels like safety. Underneath, it’s your brain narrowing the choice set because it’s spent.

You’ll notice it in the micro-moments: you reread a message three times but can’t hit send. You open the fridge, close it, then open it again hoping the answer will appear. You ask someone else what you should order, even though you don’t care.

There’s a reason those “of course!” lines are so tempting. They let you move without deciding. They’re a pre-written bridge across a gap you can’t quite step over today.

Why your brain loves scripts when it’s running low

Decision-making uses executive function: prioritising, inhibiting impulses, weighing trade-offs. When that system is tired, it doesn’t simply switch off; it tries to conserve. One way it conserves is by reaching for default patterns - habitual phrases, standard routines, anything that reduces cognitive load.

This is why you can be perfectly competent at work and still feel oddly helpless at home. Work often comes with rails: agendas, roles, deadlines, known outputs. Home is full of unlabelled choices that keep reproducing: what’s for dinner, when to wash your hair, whether to reply now, what to do about that odd email tone.

The trap is that scripts feel like solutions, so you keep leaning on them. Over time you get less decisive, not because you’re worse at choosing, but because you’ve taught yourself that choosing is expensive.

A quick self-check: are you tired, or are you “scripted”?

Try this tiny audit. It takes two minutes and it’s oddly clarifying.

• You’re tired when rest restores you and choices feel lighter tomorrow.
• You’re decision-fatigued when you keep asking for the “best” option, even for low-stakes things.
• You’re scripted when you notice you’re speaking in defaults: “Whatever you think,” “I don’t mind,” “Of course, send it over,” while feeling a small, private dread.

Look at your last five messages. Are they you, or are they safe? Look at your day. Are you choosing, or are you complying with momentum?

None of this is a moral failure. It’s a load signal.

The reset that works because it’s small: reduce the choice surface

The fix isn’t “make better decisions”. The fix is to make fewer decisions for a short window, on purpose, with your consent. Not avoidance - containment.

Here’s a simple 5-minute reset you can use mid-afternoon, on the train home, or between meetings:

1. Name the state (30 seconds). Say it plainly: “I’m in decision fatigue.” The label stops the story that you’re lazy or broken.
2. Choose one domain to freeze (1 minute). Food, outfit, messages, chores - pick one and default it for 24 hours. Same lunch, same jumper, no “should I reply?” spirals.
3. Make one “good enough” decision (2 minutes). The smallest consequential one. Pay the bill. Book the appointment. Send the simple reply.
4. Set a stop rule (1 minute). “No new decisions after 8pm,” or “Only one more email,” or “Dinner is whatever is already in the freezer.”
5. Close with a cue (30 seconds). Tea on, shoes off, timer set - something that tells your brain the choosing sprint is over.

The point is not to become robotic. It’s to give your mind a finish line.

What to say instead of reaching for the default phrases

If you notice yourself typing the “of course! please provide…” kind of line because you can’t think, swap in something truer and lighter. You’re allowed to be a person, not an assistant.

• “Send it over and I’ll look tomorrow.”
• “I can help - I’m just low on bandwidth today. What’s the one thing you need?”
• “I’m not deciding this right now. I’ll pick at 6pm.”
• “Two options only, please. I’ll choose from those.”

These are still scripts, but they’re honest scripts. They reduce decisions without pretending you have infinite capacity.

What changes when you catch it early

When you spot the script-seeking early, you stop it turning into resentment. You become less likely to snap at someone for asking a normal question. You’re more likely to set a boundary before you hit the wall.

After a week of practising this, something subtle shifts. You start trusting your “good enough” muscle again. Choices stop feeling like tiny exams, and start feeling like tools.

Decision fatigue doesn’t need a grand self-improvement plan. It needs a smaller day, briefly, and a few rails you put down on purpose.

Point clé	Détail	Intérêt pour le lecteur
The early warning sign	You start craving templates, defaults, “scripts”	Lets you intervene before burnout or conflict
The 5-minute reset	Freeze one domain, make one decision, add a stop rule	Reduces load without avoiding life
Honest scripts	Clear, low-bandwidth phrases you can reuse	Keeps you kind and decisive when you’re depleted

FAQ:

• What if I’m always “scripted” at the moment? Treat it as information, not identity. Pick one domain to simplify for a week (breakfast, outfits, evening plans) and protect your evenings from new decisions.
• Is decision fatigue real, or just stress? They overlap. Stress adds pressure; decision fatigue is the wear-and-tear of repeated choosing. The fix often starts the same: reduce inputs and add defaults.
• Won’t defaults make my life boring? Only if you default everything. The goal is to default the low-value choices so you can spend your attention on the ones that actually matter.
• How do I explain this to other people without sounding dramatic? Try: “I’m a bit maxed out on decisions today - can you give me two options?” It’s specific and easy to help with.