Bethany
Better than yesterday.
A daily journal that turns yesterday's intentions into today's checklist, and today's reflection into tomorrow's goals.
The demo is a real account with three weeks in it. Nothing to sign up for.
Write one line. Get one goal.
Each evening you write what you did and what could improve. When you name something that could improve, Bethany offers to turn it into tomorrow's goal — and leaves the wording to you, because "left the hardest task until after lunch" is an observation, and "start the hardest task before opening email" is something you can actually do.
Tomorrow morning, that sentence is waiting as a checklist.
Three honest answers, and none of them is wrong.
Every goal ends as Did it, Didn't, or Let go. Deciding against something is a real decision, not a failure, so it counts against nothing.
Nothing is marked for you. A goal you never answer stays open and keeps appearing until you say what happened to it. Bethany won't reach a verdict while you're asleep.
When it doesn't happen, it asks why.
Say a goal didn't happen and you're asked what got in the way, then offered a date to try again — anywhere from tomorrow to a week out, because sometimes the honest answer isn't tomorrow.
The original stays on the record as missed. The retry is a new goal. Nothing gets quietly rewritten.
A record you can't argue with.
Once a day is sealed it can't be edited. Not by you, not by us. That's the point — a record you can quietly soften isn't a record, and the honest entries would be the first to go.
The streak counts days you showed up, not days you were perfect. A day with no goals doesn't break it. Your longest run is kept beside your current one, because breaking a streak doesn't undo having managed it.
Late at night, on whatever you have.
It works in any browser, on any phone, and shifts through three palettes as the day goes — bright, dim, and dark — so writing at eleven at night doesn't mean a screen in the face.
No app to install. No notifications unless you ask for one.
Tomorrow starts tonight.
One sentence is enough to count. The rest builds itself.