One object, every screen
The mirror, at four altitudes.
Tonight, this week, this year, your life — one grid, four distances. Looking back, color is record. Looking forward, it's a projection you can still change.
How it works
Every Sunday, five minutes.
Drift is not a tracker with forty toggles. It asks for one honest answer a night, and one quiet verdict a week.
Your life, drawn in weeks.
Enter your birth year and Drift renders your ~4,170 weeks in sixty seconds — the lived ones dark, the ones still yours pale.
The one thing draining your evenings.
Answer honestly where the evenings go. Drift shades the weeks ahead and names a single leak — priced in years of your remaining time, not minutes.
Choose where the time goes instead.
Pick one destination that matters. The grid re-colors as you bend the line — coral to teal. Nothing here is a verdict.
Sunday, the week is sealed.
One honest tap a night, one quiet verdict a week. The record keeps being written — no streaks, and nothing ever resets.
New — what runs out
Some things have a deadline
whether you look at it or not.
A child at home. A parent you drive out to see. Name one and Drift works out how many times are really left — then asks, once a week inside the Sunday verdict, whether you spent one. It isn't another thing to log.
Bedtimes, not birthdays.
Counted until they turn 21. The number is smaller than anyone guesses, and that is the whole point of showing it.
A parent, a grandparent.
Anyone you visit rather than live with. Drift prices the drive in visits remaining, not in miles.
Until a year you choose.
Pick the birthday that means something — forty, sixty, whichever one you have been quietly walking toward.
Anything with a year on it.
A house, a city, a job. If it ends on a date, Drift can count what is left between here and there.
When one is worth remembering, you can keep a few words against it. Optional, never asked for twice, and it stays on your phone with everything else.
Why it feels different
Nothing here is a verdict. The line bends, or it doesn't. Either way, it's yours to see.
No streaks to break, no counters that humiliate you back to zero, no confetti. A missed week is a fact, not a failure — the record just keeps being written. And everything lives on your phone: no account, no cloud, nothing sent anywhere.
Questions
What Drift is, and isn't.
What is Drift?
Drift is an honest mirror for the way you spend your time. It draws your life as about 4,170 weeks and shades the ones ahead by where your evenings actually go — so you can see your trajectory and choose to bend it.
Is Drift a screen-time tracker?
No. Drift doesn't count notifications or police your apps. You give one honest answer a night about how the evening went, and Drift turns it into a picture of years, not minutes. It's a mirror, not a tracker with forty toggles.
How is Drift different from other apps?
There are no streaks to break, no counters that reset you to zero, and nothing that congratulates or scolds. A missed week is a fact, not a verdict — the record just keeps being written.
Where is my data stored?
Everything lives on your iPhone. No account, no cloud sync, nothing sent anywhere. See the privacy policy.
What does “the leak” mean?
The leak is the one behavior quietly draining your evenings — your phone, TV, or work spilling past dinner. Drift names one, never five, and shows its honest cost in years of your remaining time.
What are anchors?
An anchor is something you care about with a deadline on it — a child at home, someone older you visit, a birthday of your own. Drift works out how many times are really left and asks once a week, inside the Sunday verdict, whether you spent one. It's separate from where your evenings go, and it's optional.
Where can I get Drift, and what does it cost?
Drift is on the App Store for iPhone, on iOS 18 or later. The reveal is free: enter your birth year and you'll see your life in weeks and meet the mirror before you decide anything. The practice itself — the nightly answer, the Sunday verdict, your anchors and your trajectory — comes with a membership: 7 days free, then $19.99 a year, or $49.99 once for lifetime access.
Out now
The weeks are being spent either way. This one just lets you watch.
7 days free · iPhone, iOS 18 or later · no account, no cloud.