All 38 apps

Lock yourself to a set of apps. Wander into a distraction app and your Mac escalates — "no" → "no no no" → "NOOOOOO!" — then yanks you back. It’s funny on purpose. Funny sticks.

Drift to a doom-domain and the tab quietly redirects to something genuinely fascinating — the deep sea, tardigrades, the cosmos — before you’ve even registered you opened it.

A fully synthesized, mixable wall of sound: brown noise, pink noise, white noise, rain, fan hum. No audio files — generated in real-time by the Web Audio API. Silence is harder for ADHD brains; noise raises the baseline.

Paste in dense text and read it one highlighted line at a time, with optional bionic bolding (the first half of each word is bold, anchoring the eye). Eliminates losing your place in walls of text.

One hotkey snapshots your current app, tab, and next action. An interruption can’t wipe your context — a ship’s log of saved anchors lets you sail straight back to exactly where you were.

A coloured disk that shrinks as time drains, shifting from cyan → amber → coral as the deadline approaches. You feel time passing — not as an abstract number, but as a visible, shrinking shape.

Structured work/break cycles that auto-advance, with a long break every few rounds. Takes the "how long do I work?" decision away so you can just start.

Tell it when you need to arrive. It works backwards through travel time and prep time to tell you exactly when to start getting ready and when to walk out the door.

The anti-focus-timer: after a configurable stretch of unbroken work, gently surfaces an alert to come up for air. Catches hyperfocus before it eats the whole day.

Guess how long a task will take, then time yourself doing it. Over time you learn your personal multiplier ("you think 20 min — it’s actually 36"). Builds genuine time estimation skill, not just awareness.

Block out today on a visual timeline. Finite hours become a real, limited resource you can see. Over-booking shows up immediately as blocks spilling off the edge — a clear "something has to move" signal.

Paste one scary task. It shatters into 2-minute atoms. You see only one at a time. The wall disappears; the first step appears. Can’t freeze in front of one concrete action.

Shows only NOW and NEXT. Nothing else. Stuck? Hit "Decide for me" and it picks. The fewer the options, the lower the activation energy.

Frozen on a small choice (where to eat, which task first)? Type your options and roll. The dice make the call. Sometimes you just need the decision removed.

Two quick questions — urgent? important? — sort your tasks into a 2×2. The top-right cell hands you one clear "do this first." No deliberation required.

Run a routine one step at a time with estimated durations and a live ETA. Never lose the thread mid-morning routine because a notification appeared.

A calm breathing presence that works alongside you and checks in gently. Body-doubling — the well-documented ADHD phenomenon where another person’s presence dramatically improves focus — made available solo, at any time.

Commit to THE one keystone task that makes today a win before anything else appears. Eat the frog. One decision, made once, in the morning.

A 90-second guided handoff when you need to change tasks: close the last one out, prime the next one in. Reduces the cognitive cost of gear-shifting.

Finish a task, pull the lever. Variable-ratio rewards — the same mechanism as a slot machine — deliver points, streaks, and rare jackpots. Jackpots are rare on purpose. Anticipation is the reward.

Earn tokens by completing tasks. Bank them. Spend them on pre-approved guilt-free treats — rest, a snack, a walk, a game. Guilt-free rest is a feature, not a bug.

Each daily habit is a plant that visibly grows with your streak. Break the streak and the plant stops growing. The progress is spatial and visible — not a number you have to mentally process.

Count down to good things: a trip, a dinner, a concert. Anticipation of positive events is a legitimate, healthy dopamine source. Most productivity tools ignore the motivating power of things to look forward to.

Do something real, earn a dig charge, mine for a random reward. Random rewards (rare gems, common ore) use variable-ratio reinforcement. Finding the vein is a genuine dopamine event.

A thought ambushed you mid-task? Type it, hit Enter — the box clears. The thought is caught so your working memory can let it go and return to what you were doing.

The anti-to-do list: log only what you actually did. End each day with a concrete list of proof that you accomplished things — the antidote to the ADHD experience of "I worked all day and have nothing to show for it."

Type the mean thing your brain just said. Kind Voice names the cognitive distortion it contains and offers a gentler, truer reframe. Not toxic positivity — just accuracy.

Park a worry in a scheduled window so it stops looping now. Logs the worry with a date; later, you can see how many worries came true (almost none). Evidence-based worry-containment.

A calm 5-4-3-2-1 sensory grounding walk: five things you can see, four you can hear, three you can touch, two you can smell, one you can taste. Clinically-evidenced technique for returning to the present from emotional spirals.

Drop good moments in the jar as they happen. On a bad day, pull one out at random. Concrete counter-evidence against the RSD filter that turns every bad day into "everything is always bad."

Write a sealed letter to your future self. It stays locked until the delivery date you set. On that day it arrives like mail from your past — proof that your past self was thinking of you. Builds the sense of self-continuity that ADHD disrupts.

A guided end-of-day ritual that closes every open loop: tasks parked, tomorrow primed, tomorrow’s first task named. Gives the ADHD brain a clear signal that work is done — the one thing it struggles to generate on its own.

Budget your finite daily energy in "spoons" — the chronic illness energy model. Plan your day within your actual capacity, not the idealised version. Rest without guilt when the spoons are spent.

Bubble wrap (with sound), a momentum spinner (with physics), a corner-to-corner sand trail, and guided breathing — all in one place. Somewhere for restless hands, a place to stim that isn’t a distraction.

A daily quick check on the non-negotiables: water, food, movement, daylight, meds. Five checkboxes. Takes 10 seconds. Catches the 3pm "why do I feel terrible?" spiral before it starts.

One giant "taken today?" answer per medication. One tap to log, with a daily history. No second-guessing, no double-dosing. (Memory aid only — not medical advice.)

Log where you stashed something the moment you put it down. Later, search for your keys, your wallet, your charger. One tap logs the location; one search finds it. The ADHD object permanence problem, solved.

Tap to count anything — glasses of water, phone checks, cigarettes, steps. A visual daily history grid builds awareness of invisible patterns. You can’t change what you can’t see.