for a mind that won’t stop · for an office · for office and field
Write it down now.
Decide what it was later.
An app that does not ask where a thought goes while you are writing it.
The filing you skipped piles up on purpose, and clears in one pass at a desk.
Your notes are only the start. You’ve never been this productive.
No credit card. Paid plans lift the limits; the core never changes.
Your subscription is yours. It goes with you to every company that hires you, and what you wrote inside one of them stays yours when the contract ends. How that works
one board, two sides
Work on one side. Life on the other.On every plan
At six in the evening you do not want to deselect forty tags to stop seeing work. Press a side and the other one goes away, and it takes its tags with it, out of the filters and out of the pickers. Press it again for everything. This is the real control, not a picture of one. Try it.
showing everything · 6 of 6 tags
filter by tag or person
7:12 AM
Casing vent on 14-3 is blowing. Shut it in and call the pumper.
5:55 PM
Boiler service is due. The company we used last year answers by text.
9:40 AM
Meridian invoice is short two tickets. Ask before it goes out.
You are never asked which side a note is while you are writing it. Whatever is undecided waits, and gets answered in one pass at a desk, on the arrow keys, most-used tags first.
if you run a crew
No GPS trail on technicians, and there will not be one. Software the crew reads as surveillance stops getting opened, and then nothing else it does is true either.
asked before signing up
The five questions people actually ask.
Is this an ADHD app?
No, and it would be worth something to say so plainly. It makes no claim to treat, manage or improve anything, and there is no version of it that will. What it is: a notes app built so that nothing is asked of you at the moment you write something down, and so the filing you skipped is a separate job you can do later or not at all. People whose heads do not hold things use it for that reason, and so do people whose hands are full. The person who built it has written about his own head on the personal page, in his own words, about himself.
Does it work with no signal?
Yes, and that is the case it was built in rather than an edge case it grew. Writing works with no signal, on a phone, in a truck, in a basement. It syncs when there is something to sync to, and nobody has to remember to press anything. A well pad with no bars was an ordinary Tuesday for the person who wrote it.
Can I use it for my crew?
Yes, on Office and up. A work order a technician finishes on the phone in three taps, the money entered on the card where it was spent, a month you close instead of build, and a link somebody outside files a job through without an account. What it deliberately does not have: a dispatch board, parts inventory, customer invoicing, and any GPS trail on a technician.
If I stop paying, do I lose what I wrote?
Nothing you wrote is deleted, and nothing stops being yours to read, search, edit or tick off. The free limits apply again, which means that above 50 notes you keep everything you have and simply cannot write new ones until you are back under the line or paying again. The one thing that does eventually go is old images on the free plan, and you get an email before that happens. Export is on every plan including the free one: one file, whenever you want it.
Is there an AI reading my notes?
Only if you turn it on, and it is off until you do. Each person accepts or declines it for their own account. With it off, nothing you write is ever sent to an AI provider. With it on, it offers rather than acts, and one key ignores whatever it offered. The security page says what the server can and cannot see, in the register a regulator reads.
More about the price on the pricing page, and what the server can see on the security page.
The desk: a strip along the top listing what is already overdue, then a week of cards on a horizon you can drag, today’s work in front and the deadlines that clash with it lined up behind. Routines that come back on a clock roll to next week when they are finished. Undated thoughts wait in the drawer below, which is where a thought goes before anybody has decided what it was.
written on a phone, filed by the time you sit down
This is the desk, and it is the real one.
A Tuesday that is already going wrong in the usual ways: something overdue, two meetings back to back against the deadlines that clash with them, and six thoughts with no date on them that are none the worse for it. Drag a deadline along the horizon. Press a card. Finish the routine and watch it roll to next week. Nothing here is saved, because you have not signed up.
No signal. Write anyway.
A basement, a well pad, a plane. Notes written offline are held on your device and sync themselves the moment you are back.
Write it on your phone.
It’s already on your desk.
Write it on one, it is on the other before you put the first one down. No refresh, no export, no second app.
Get it out of your head.
Nothing you think of has to be lost anymore.
It’s here, waiting for you.