2026-06-23
Time Management for Anarchists
My only secret to productivity: offload everything from my brain so it doesn't have to remember anything. Use habits, notes, calendars, lists, creative constraints, deadlines. Externalize the work your brain is bad at.
I use paper for most of it. It's on my desk and fridge. I can't forget about it that way. Paper lets me spread things out, reorder them, stack them in piles. This trivially encoding more information through spatial memory than any file system. No software needed. I have a digital calendar, but every month I fill out a large paper one that sits on my fridge. I cross off days. I see everything at a glance. I track habits and chores.
The same logic applies to meetings. I now create notes ahead of time so I never forget to bring up the topics I want to cover in my brief window with someone. Think of something else to discuss? Add it to their card. Each note has the person's name and the things I want to talk about. If we don't get to something, it carries over. No brain power required.
I keep notes for projects, for ideas, inline in my code for things I want to improve later. I no longer bother remembering any of it. I write it down and review it as a habit—usually at the start and end of each day. That's when I prune. The secret to a todo list is copying it fresh every morning and throwing away yesterday's. Do not keep things around. You either do them or stop copying them. A backlog is a lie you tell yourself to avoid the hard work of saying no.
I apply the same system to cooking. I love cooking but hate deciding what to make. It takes me thirty minutes to brainstorm meals whether I'm picking one or a dozen so I build a list. Meal after meal goes on it until I have enough for a grocery run. I fill the back with ingredients to buy and cross them off in the store. The remaining list becomes my menu until it's empty. What's for dinner? Check what's left. It's easy to pick when there are two or three options. I mark meals as short or long depending on perishables so that fresh vegetables go first, then the dishes that keep. I shop roughly once a month.
Deadlines do more than force delivery. They create a rhythm of tension and release. As one approaches, I go into crunch: cutting scope, accepting tradeoffs, shipping. Afterward I relax, unwind, think creatively again. Too many deadlines too close together is death, but a good cadence ebbs and flows like the tides.
I've kept a ledger of all my earnings and expenses for over a decade. I started it in college after discovering the ledger CLI. The file is 18,000 lines now, managed with a text editor and a handful of scripts I wrote myself. It taught me double-entry accounting. More importantly, it gave me clarity. I know exactly how much I need to retire. I know how long my savings last if I quit or get fired tomorrow. Someone once called that kind of cushion "fuck you money" — as in, "fuck you, I don't need to put up with this." And knowing I have that option really reframes my relationship to work. I don't need the job. I choose to work here.