Well planned. Well lived. Apical keeps your tasks, calendar, notes and email in one calm app, with your health beside them. On iPhone, iPad and Apple Watch.
Someone asks if you're free Thursday. The calendar says yes. It has never heard of the three things on your to-do list that need that afternoon.
Tasks, appointments and your Gmail or Outlook calendar share one day view, so the answer you give is about the whole day, not half of it.
Apical: Planner, Tasks & Email — on the App Store.
Most home screens inside apps are built for the average user, which means a third of them is something you never look at.
Choose which cards Home shows, and in what order. Today's tasks first, or the weather, or the inbox. Hide the rest.
Apical: Planner, Tasks & Email — on the App Store.
You pass the store on the way home every single day. The day you need milk is the day you drive straight past it, because the reminder went off at lunch.
Grocery reminders that fire when you arrive near the store, not at a set time. Part of Live Well.
Apical: Planner, Tasks & Email — on the App Store.
"Return the parcel" goes off at 9am, at your desk, a mile from the post office. You dismiss it and remember again at 6pm, driving past the one place you needed to stop.
The reminder knew what. It didn't know where.
Give the task a place, and it reminds you when you arrive.
Apical: Planner, Tasks & Email — on the App Store.
It's 10pm and three of today's tasks didn't happen. Tomorrow you'll either rewrite them from memory or lose one.
That isn't a lack of discipline. The day was just shorter than the list.
Plan Tomorrow comes up on Home in the evening: move what's unfinished to tomorrow, all at once or one by one, mark it done or let it go. Then pick tomorrow's top three and check your alarm.
Apical: Planner, Tasks & Email — on the App Store.
The phone is the last thing you look at before sleep, and it usually hands you one more email.
Serenity is the other door: sleep sounds with a timer that fades out on its own, guided breathing, and a tracker that charts your nights. Part of Live Well.
Apical: Planner, Tasks & Email — on the App Store.
Your alarm lives in the clock app. Your day lives somewhere else. So the 6:30 alarm has no idea that Thursday starts with an 8:00 meeting across town.
The alarm clock sits on Home and in the Planner, next to the day it wakes you for. Repeat it on the days you choose, and snooze or stop it from the Lock Screen.
Apical: Planner, Tasks & Email — on the App Store.
A basket in one hand, a toddler or a bag in the other, and the list is on the phone in your pocket.
So you stop in the middle of the aisle, juggle everything to unlock it, and lose your place anyway.
The grocery list is on your wrist instead: tick off what's in the basket and see what's left at a glance. The Apple Watch app is part of Live Well.
Apical: Planner, Tasks & Email — on the App Store.
"I got eggs." "I got eggs too."
The grocery list lived in a group chat, so it was out of date the moment anyone left the house. Everyone shopped from a screenshot of a version that no longer existed.
Share the list itself and every add and every check-off shows up for everyone. They join with a free account; sharing a list is part of Power.
Apical: Planner, Tasks & Email — on the App Store.
Every Sunday you write the same list. Take the bins out. Refill the meds. Send the Friday report.
None of it is new. You are just the only system that remembers it, so you rebuild it from memory every week and hope nothing fell out.
Set each one to repeat once, and it shows up on the day it's due. The week remembers itself.
Apical: Planner, Tasks & Email — on the App Store.
Sunday evening, you know roughly what the week holds: the dentist on Tuesday, the report by Thursday, the gym three times if you're honest.
Typing that into a calendar is a dozen taps per thing, so it stays in your head instead, the one place that can't remind you of anything.
Describe the week in a sentence and it comes back as tasks and events. Nothing is added until you tap Add on one. Part of Power.
Apical: Planner, Tasks & Email — on the App Store.
You open one article, and before the first paragraph the page has jumped three times, a video has started, and scripts you'll never see have made a note of you.
The article was the point. Everything else was the price of reading it.
The news reader here refuses ad and tracker scripts before the page loads, so they never run at all. Part of Live Well.
Apical: Planner, Tasks & Email — on the App Store.
The forecast said dry at 7am. At 4pm you're standing in a doorway, deciding whether to run for it.
The forecast wasn't wrong, exactly. You checked it once, in a different app, eight hours before the decision that needed it.
The hourly forecast and the live radar, in the same place as the afternoon you're planning.
Apical: Planner, Tasks & Email — on the App Store.
In most households one person is the calendar. The dentist, the school thing, who's driving on Thursday — it all lives in their head, and everyone else asks.
It isn't that nobody else cares. It's that the calendar only exists properly in one place, and that place is a person.
Share the calendar itself with the people it involves, and the questions stop. They join with a free account; sharing a calendar is part of Power.
Apical: Planner, Tasks & Email — on the App Store.
Eight replies into a thread about Thursday, and the actual decision is buried somewhere around reply five, under two people agreeing and a question that reply three already answered.
You don't need to reread it. You need to know what was decided and what you're now on the hook for.
Pick the messages, up to eight at a time, and ask for a summary: what was said, what needs doing and any events worth adding, each point linked to the message it came from. It only runs when you ask. Part of Power.
Apical: Planner, Tasks & Email — on the App Store.
"Return the parcel" goes off at 9am, at your desk, a mile from the post office.
You dismiss it, because what else can you do, and remember it again at 6pm, driving home past the place you needed to be.
The reminder was right about what. It was wrong about where.
Give the task a place, and it reminds you when you arrive.
Apical: Planner, Tasks & Email — on the App Store.
Most apps want an account before they'll show you anything. A name, an email, a password you'll forget, a code sent to an inbox you then have to open.
This one opens on today. No account needed to start.
Apical: Planner, Tasks & Email — on the App Store.
There's a particular flavour of procrastination that looks exactly like being organised.
Choosing the project. Picking the tag. Setting the priority, then changing the priority. Twenty minutes later the task is beautifully filed and you have none of the attention left that you were going to spend actually doing it.
The tidying felt like progress. That's what makes it so hard to notice.
Setup shouldn't cost more than the task.
Apical: Planner, Tasks & Email — on the App Store.
You remember the file. You remember roughly who sent it, and almost what month.
What you don't remember is the subject line, which is the only thing the search box genuinely cares about. So you scroll — two accounts, looking for a paperclip, feeling faintly incompetent about a thing that is not your fault.
The file was never lost. It was filed by a system that indexes what you don't recall and ignores what you do.
Both accounts in one list, with a paperclip on every message that carries a file. One inbox comes with every plan; two or more is Power.
Apical: Planner, Tasks & Email — on the App Store.
You pick up the tablet because you want to see more, and the app gives you the phone screen, bigger.
Same one column. Same paging back and forth between the week and the thing you're actually looking at. All that glass, and you're still holding half the picture in your head.
There's a small quiet pleasure in seeing the whole week at once and realising it's fine. That's what the extra room is for.
Apical: Planner, Tasks & Email — on the App Store.