It's a potentially concerning sign of the times, but my morning is dictated by my apps. On an average day, I start off by putting in a mobile Dunkin' order, checking my sales on Poshmark and my rentals on Pickle, and playing the New York Times games before shifting over to the more serious work apps.
My ultimate goal with this morning app rotation is to resist the siren call of social media and, with it, an unproductive start to the day. So as of last spring, I added a new app to the morning mix: Finch, which is sort of like a to-do list mixed with a Tamagotchi. This app, I reasoned, would help me be even more productive by giving me structured goals and rewards for my real-world responsibilities.
Your Finch thrives on your success
Finch is an app that gamifies your productivity. As you complete daily tasks and mark them done in the app, you nourish a little bird who grows and thrives based on how much you give them. It's a cute concept. The more you accomplish and interact with your bird, the more "adventures" they go on, skills they develop, and growth they achieve. Over the first month, my buddy progressed into a toddler-bird and then a kid. Now, on day 185, she is an adult and we have reached the "uber besties" status in our relationship. It feels silly to type out, but it isn't that ridiculous when you're actually using the game.
The app comes pre-loaded with tasks and—I won't lie—they were a little more basic than what I needed and could feel infantilizing, but you can swap them out for tasks you actually need to be reminded to do. The pre-loaded ones include things like "get out of bed" and "drink water." I can imagine these little reminders (and the in-game rewards that come with completing them) would be helpful for someone in a serious funk, so I found that sweet, but not beneficial for me.
I kept a few of them in the to-do list for some easy wins, but was able to add in the other things I want to accomplish daily, like "work out" and "clear inbox." You can tie the completion of certain tasks to in-game challenges, earning specific prizes for, say, marking off "take a stretch break" for seven days in a row. You can also set tasks to occur weekly, monthly, or at whatever interval makes sense for you.
It's definitely worth keeping in mind that while Finch functions excellently as a to-do manager, it was designed with self-care in mind and the target audience is definitely people who struggle more with the "get out of bed"-type tasks. Your bird will send you push notifications with copy like, "You got this!" throughout the day; when you complete tasks, the app will emphatically tell you you've done a good job. I find this endearing, but it could be a little cloying for some.
Finch offers motivation without the shame
The interface is simple to use and understand, which I appreciate. All I have to do is open the app and tap a checkmark next to a task to indicate I've done it. Other apps I've used have drawn that part out, requiring me to, say, enter how difficult I found completing the task.
From there, I earn rewards like in-game currency, the ability to go on "adventures" to places like New York City or Tokyo, and get new traits and little outfits for my bird. It's rudimentary, yes, but also relaxing and pleasant.
There are also a lot of mini-games, like the adventures. My bird is currently "exploring" the Amazon and reports back on things she's seen every day, like wild animals and local foods. (There isn't actually a scene of this happening; I just see a little image of my bird walking and then read text dialogue about her day's discoveries. Completing an "adventure" for the day is what helps your bird grow into the next life stage, from toddler to kid, etc.) I can complete daily tasks, like changing her outfit, doing a breathing exercise, or journaling about my gratitude, to earn more in-game currency.

I like this more than other productivity apps because it doesn't shame you in any way. It's encouraging, not stressful, and the game element is novel and cute enough to keep it interesting. It takes only a few seconds to dress my bird up in a new skirt or whatever and it provides a little dopamine bop that checking off a to-do task in my notes app doesn't give me.
Yes, Finch has streaks, but it's not too intrusive
There's no major time commitment here, necessarily. If all I wanted to do was check off items on my list, that would be fine, although every few items you check off, your bird will munch on food to "energize" because your completion of your task prompted it to. That does trigger a small cut scene that takes about three seconds to complete, so you can't rapid-fire check your boxes—something to consider if quick checking-off is your goal here above all else.
There are rewards for doing other things—like following guided breathing or stretching exercises, listening to soundscapes, writing down daily reflections, and chronicling your overall emotional state—but no penalties for not doing them. Once, I didn't log in until the evening and, for some reason, the app claimed I had "missed a day." It gave me the option to replenish my streak. The first time was free but subsequent streak retrievals cost a little bit of in-game currency. I was annoyed (because it wasn't midnight yet and I don't know how that counts as losing my streak!) but also pleasantly surprised I could fix it. The game wants you to succeed and doesn't want to penalize you for anything. That can definitely be appealing if you're someone who is stressed about getting things done.
Be advised that while you can earn in-game currency and little rewards every day, Finch is designed for long-term use. My bird was previously "exploring" New York City and after two weeks, was only 40% of the way done. The complete exploration took well over a month. We haven't even hit Bali or London yet. You also earn more when you complete streaks, so you get better rewards after, say, a week of marking off "work out" or "take a stretch break" than you do just from doing it once. You can tie tasks to certain rewards, like earning a "micropet," or tiny animal graphic that follows your bird around. I have earned 24, like a corgi and a little ghost, and I am set to hatch my 25th tomorrow.
It's clear that this is, above all, a self-care app, but it's entirely possible to input more concrete to-dos into your list. I spent my first week using it lightly, mostly relying on those early-stage goals the app came up with, but now that I've gotten the hang of it (and my bird needs some cute new outfits) I've added more of my work and home-based tasks, like cleaning certain rooms on a schedule or responding to emails. It's proven pretty helpful as a cleaning checklist, since I've liked but not loved any of the other ones I've tried.
Unexpected Finch benefits
Finch's positivity—the bright colors, cute animations, encouraging dialogue, and complete lack of shaming you for failure to complete a task or streak—is actually a lot more motivating to me than other apps that are harsher.
It took me months to notice one of the major utilities here, though. For longer than I care to admit, I was just doing this for the love of the game, filling out whatever prompts I was given so I could go buy a new baseball glove for my bird or redecorate her bedroom. (I love silly things!) Hidden in my profile on the app, however, was the real result of all those weeks of inputting things into the app: an "insights" tab.
See, every time you log in, the app asks you to rate your motivation or satisfaction for the day on a scale of one to five. I did that because it asked me to, not because I knew it was going to eventually use that data to create a color-coded breakdown of how often I'm feeling well and how often I'm feeling down. Now, six months in, I can actually see patterns in my red (bad) and green (good) days, noting when they occur. Charts break down things like how your feelings this week compare to your average feelings last week or last month, plus other data is used to map out what makes you happy. Every few days, I'm prompted to share what I'm grateful for or something I can be proud of myself for. It turns out the app was keeping track of all that. Per my insights tab, hilariously, there is a correlation between my good days and words like "smoothie," "Solidcore," and "Dunkin'." My friends and the gym "lifted [me] up the most" over the last six months, says the app, and it identified patterns in the things that "weighed [me] down the most," too.
Just by answering the prompts and marking off tasks every day for half a year, I inadvertently created enough data for Finch to start doing some pattern recognition on my behalf. It's not shocking that I had a better day when I worked out or got a Dunkin', but it's interesting that these effects were so pronounced. Continuing to honestly fill out the prompts can and will only yield more detailed insights and, if I pay attention to them, make me more productive.
You can pay—but you don't have to
Finch is available for free on iOS and the Google Play store. You can totally use the free version, which is what I do, but for $39.99 per year, you can access more exercises and shop items, plus customize the little icons that appear next to your to-dos. (Not being able to customize them hasn't bothered me, for what it's worth.) You get a seven-day free trial to see if you're into all that, but it's not especially necessary. The free version does everything you need.
Overall, this is a cute, fun alternative to a traditional to-do app that comes with a surprising number of features. I've definitely found myself using the in-game breathing exercises or gratitude journal, which I didn't expect to do, but it's easy to access and you get rewarded for doing it, so why not? I love that the free version is so comprehensive and the app rarely, if ever, nudges me to pay for an upgrade. Still, I can see how it would be a little woo-woo for some. It's a cartoon bird programmed to encourage you when you do the most basic things, like brush your teeth. Again, I don't mind that, but if you might find it condescending, this may not be for you.
Covering productivity apps, home organization, and more.