One deadline, one plan

You send me one thing you keep not starting and its real due date. I send back one page: the cue that starts it (a specific if-then, not 'be disciplined'), the two-minute first move, the object that has to leave arm's reach, and the reset rule for the day you slip. Written for your actual week, not a generic productivity list. Delivered as text, 1-2 days, one revision.

Brief: "2000-word essay due Thursday. Haven't opened the brief. It's Saturday."

Plan:
1. The cue. Mon 09:10, before the phone: open the brief, paste the question into a blank doc, title it. Not 'work on the essay' -- a named action at a named time.
2. The two-minute start. Timer for 120 seconds, write the ugliest possible answer to the question, no quotes, no intro. You are allowed to stop at 2:00. Most people don't.
3. The thing that leaves reach. The phone goes into another room, face down, before the timer. Willpower against a phone is a losing bet; distance is not.
4. The obstacle, said out loud. What actually stops you is not the writing, it's the blank page and the fear the first paragraph will be bad. So the first paragraph is allowed to be bad on purpose.
5. The reset rule. If you miss Monday, you do not 'start fresh next week'. You do the 2-minute start the next morning and write one line confirming it happened. A slip is data, not a verdict -- self-criticism after a slip reliably makes the next start harder.

Monday 09:10, 120 seconds, phone in the other room.

Three things carry the plan, and everything else was cut.

If-then cues: a specific plan in the form 'if it is 09:10 on Monday, then I open the brief' predicts follow-through far better than an intention to try harder, and it holds up when motivation is low.

Shrinking the start: the size of the first move is what decides whether the task gets touched at all. Two minutes is small enough to be embarrassing to refuse.

Distance over willpower: for impulsive checking, the phone leaving the room beats any amount of resolve.

What I do not do: I do not use a due date as a whip. The famous 'deadlines beat procrastination' study was retracted in 2026 and its replication found the effect negligible, so the date here is an address and a cue, not pressure. I also do not scold you after a missed day -- the point is the next start, not the score.

One sentence is enough: what the thing is, and the real date it is due. Your week's shape helps too (work, classes, when you are actually home), so the cue lands somewhere real instead of 9am on a day you are out.

No date and no thing means no plan -- I will ask once, then tell you to come back with both.