Most people say Sunday evening, which is where the name comes from. It is only a name: pick the day you actually do your week and everything here follows it.
Your systems
The rest of the range
Anything in your head goes in the bar below, the second it occurs to you. It waits there until you do your week, and that is where it gets placed.
What is decided for each day, one line from each system you own. Underneath is what is still to do. Tap a day to open it.
The rest of the week, from tomorrow - today is up above, whole. Two things end up here and nothing else: what your systems need doing, and anything you gave a day to. Nothing arrives uninvited, and nothing sits here that is not due within seven days.
Put it in once. It appears in good time, not on the morning.
This is where the week comes together: what you are holding, what is coming, the house rules, and the handover for whoever is covering.
It comes with any system you buy. Take one room and this opens with it.
Already bought? Paste the key from your email. It opens every room you own, on this phone, once - and it is never asked for again.
See what it costsMost people say Sunday evening, which is where the name comes from. It is only a name: pick the day you actually sit down and everything here follows it - what it is called, what Holding is waiting for, what the week is bought on.
Anything at all, the second it occurs to you - put it in the bar at the bottom of the screen, from any view. It fills all week and it empties on the day you do your week - that is the point of it, and it is why this never becomes a pile. Every line leaves by one of four doors: a day, if it has to happen once. Every week or month, if it comes round. A system, if one of yours owns it. Or how our house works, if it is not a job at all but a thing somebody needs to know.
Nothing here has a day on it. The moment something does - you say today, tomorrow, or a date - it leaves and goes onto the week, before your day if that is when it has to happen. So what waits here is only ever what can wait.
Anything that is not the weekly shop, grouped by where you get it.
A card appears here the moment you put somebody's name on something - nothing to set up and nothing to name. Their week, in day order, ready to send or print. They do not need the app and they never will: it goes as a message, an email or a piece of paper.
Or print the week for everybody at once - a page each, with their things, the house rules and your standing line. One for the counter, one for the school bag.
The messages you end up writing over and over. Tap one, fill the gaps, send it.
The letter with the ingredients on it, the trip date, the kit list. Paste it in - or photograph it and let your phone copy the words out, which it does better than we could - and it turns into the dates and jobs it found. You confirm every line, and nothing leaves this phone.
The things you never write down because you just know them. Tap one to rewrite it. They go into every brief on their own.
You never choose the system - you choose the thing, and the thing already belongs to one. Dairy, nuts and the oven are Meals; creases, linen and heels are Wardrobe. Pick anything that creases and Wardrobe is the one that obeys it. A rule with no thing in it, like the bins, stays words and goes in the briefs.
Anything you have saved and not done anything with yet. Drop it here and it waits until a system can use it. Nothing here is ever owed and it is never a step in the twenty minutes - it is a shelf, not a list.