My Tech Routine
I’ve always been fascinated by how other people do things.
Morning routines, evening routines, writing processes, productivity systems, file management set-ups, goal setting processes. I’m into it, and I want detail.
When I read Erin Loechner’s For the Curious: My Own Tech Habits, Rules, Boundaries blog post, I knew I wanted to write my own.
I see a lot people talking about the tools they use in tech (favorite apps, digital set-ups, etc) but few people talking about the role technology plays in their life. Not just the ways we choose to use it, but the way we don’t.
Here are my tech habits, rules, and boundaries. There are many overlaps with Erin’s because I share (and have been influenced by) her digital minimalist mindset.
I don’t check email every day.
This one’s relatively new, and not so much a rule, as something I stumbled into. I used to check my email all day long. Not compulsively, but I think like a lot of people, my inbox was simply open when I was on my laptop. And whenever I reached for my phone, I’d check the Mail app out of habit.
I think the shift started when I quit wearing my Apple Watch. I’d grown accustomed to doing a quick check of my inbox on my wrist. When that was no longer an option, it broke the habit, and for whatever reason, I never felt compelled to replace the habit by checking my email on a different device.
I don’t have any rules about it, it’s not even a conscious thing. It’s, “Okay, no email on weekends” or “no email after five” or “I tackle my inbox on Tuesdays and Thursdays only” kind of thing. I just sort of … check it when I think about it.
Most email is not urgent, and if it is truly time-sensitive, my life is set up as such so that the one who sent it has my phone number and knows to text, which happens about once a year.
Inbox Zero
When I do open my email app, I don’t close it again until it’s completely empty.
I delete most of my email. Way more than I used to. Anything that’s just an FYI or heads up, I delete. I’ve quit doing the, autopilot “Thank you!” or “got it!” to every email. That’s just one more email in the other person’s inbox that they have to deal with/delete. No wonder so many people’s inboxes are out of control.
When it’s someone sending me something to read or watch, if I’m not in the mood or not interested, delete, unless the link/article is paired with a thoughtful discourse. I forget who planted this seed in my head, but I can’t get it out: It takes approximately 30 seconds to copy/paste an article link or YouTube link into an email with the note “thought u might find this interesting.” And yet when we receive such an email, we feel need to spend far more than 30 seconds reading/watching the thing sent to us, and then replying with something that proves we consumed it.
I’m not actually as snippy about this as I sound, I always appreciate someone thinking of me, it’s more that I no longer feel obligated to consume everything sent my way. And when I send something to someone else, I try to take put some thought and time into it. If I think it’s worth their time, then I should be willing to make it worth my time.
(👆🏻 I break that rule all the time, especially with poor Anth. “READ THIS.”)
If an email requires my response, I respond to it then and there. If it’s something chunkier that requires more time than I have in the moment, I drag/send the email to the Things app (my task manager) and set the date where I need to deal with this, based on its priority. (You can also send email to Apple’s free Reminders app).
As I write this, I’m realizing it’s really less about the an obsessive need to get to “Inbox Zero,” and more about ensuring that my inbox never doubles as a “to do” app. When I sit down to figure out what I want/need to do on a given day, I never have to open my inbox to see what’s languishing and risk getting derailed by low priority stuff.
I don’t subscribe to emails
Continuing on with my email habits, I don’t subscribe to … anything.
I try to live by this oldie-but-goodie:
Create more than you consume.
I find one of the easiest ways to make that happen is to remove any sort of “automation” from my consumption process. That means no email subscriptions of any kind. Not just from retailers and businesses (I prefer to buy new makeup or sweaters when I need new makeup or sweaters, not because I get an email letting me knew something is new and on sale) but from other creators/writers as well.
I used to make an exception for James Clear’s excellent 3-2-1 emails. It’s still excellent, but he’s become a bit salesy and self-promoting, and I don’t allow that into my inbox unless specifically requested, which I did not. Unsubscribe.
That’s not to say that I don’t enjoy other people’s writing, and that I’m not a superfan/follower of many writers and creators. I totally am.
But I find if I enjoy someone’s work enough, I remember them. I’ll actively seek them out to see what they’re up to. Case in point, the aforementioned Erin. I’ve read and re-read every single thing she’s written for years, but I’ve never subscribed to her newsletter. I visit her website when I think to visit her website, which is often.
Same goes for Ryan Holiday. I’m low-key obsessed, and visit his website once a week or so, not because I get his emails, but because I want to read what he has to say. This applies for authors I like as well. I’ve never subscribed or followed Ron Chernow, Lisa Kleypas, or Walter Isaacson, but I always know when they have a new book out because I proactively check every so often.
Does this mean I miss out on some nuggets by creators whose work I truly like because my brain isn’t big enough to remember everybody? Sure. But maybe this is a good thing. Maybe that allows me to stumble upon something new and fresh I’m meant to find, or better yes, create something new and fresh.
Email newsletters (and oh, hello, Substack) have been foisted up onto the Creator Pedestal in the past few years as the anti social media. “The only user base you actually own!” The advice is not wrong. I still think gathering newsletter subscribers is a way better option than amassing social media followers. I have a sign-up here on this site for people that do like to get email. My way doesn’t have to be your way.
But it’s worth noting that at the end of the day, everyone is still fighting for a chunk of your precious time and attention.
Protect your inbox. Create more than you consume.
My love of Pinterest is waning
As someone who’s been inactive on traditional social media for years, Pinterest has long been my safe haven.
And if you’re thinking, “Wait, isn’t Pinterest social media?” Not really. Marketing gurus call it a “visual search engine.” It’s more about finding creative inspiration for a specific concept rather than following or getting updates from a specific person/business.
But whatever we call it, it’s always felt a little less toxic than traditional social media, perhaps because unlike TikTok and Instagram, it hasn’t been deliberately engineered to be addictive and keep you on the app; posts are clickable to external links, which prioritizes the original creator of the content rather than platform itself.
That said, while I still do use and enjoy Pinterest, it’s less than I used to. What used to be a safe haven is increasingly feeling like a maze of billboards. Every urban sketch or color palette inspiration I want to save is sandwiched between an ad for Swiffer and an ad for ugly wide-legged pants. 40-60% of the posts I can see on my screen at a given time are ads.
I get it. Pinterest needs to make money somehow, we all do. But I have increasingly less patience for being constantly sold to. That old adage, “If something is free, you’re the product” is something I think about often. If we’re not paying for a product, it usually means our attention, data, or behavior is being sold to someone who is.
If Pinterest offered a paid subscription where we could use the platform without ads, I’d literally throw my money at them.
I pay for YouTube Premium
Which is why I happily pay for YouTube Premium even though I’m not really a YouTube power user. Mostly I use YouTube to watch “journal with me” videos, commonplace book flip throughs, and Hogwarts ambiance videos while I’m working. But the monthly cost is worth it to consume only what I want to consume without an algorithm trying to coax me to buy shit I don’t need.
I don’t listen to podcasts
I’m echoing Erin on this one, though my reasons for disliking podcasts are different than hers. To be really blunt, I find listening to someone blather on in my ear completely unbearable, no matter who it is or what topic.
I don’t keep work hours
Anth and I are both full-time creatives (I know, I kind of hate that term too, but I don’t have a better one) which means we get to set our own work hours.
It’s hands down the best part of being self-employed, which is why … we don’t set any work hours. We didn’t leave the 9-5 to create a self-imposed 9-5, or 7-3, or M-Th work week, or whatever. I know some people thrive by creating these boundaries; no email on weekends, no laptop after 4pm, whatever. That works for them. *
But not for us. We work when we feel like it, which honestly, is kind of all the time.
Our work isn’t something we do, it’s who we are. I’m not writing at 6am or designing a website template at 7pm on that same day because it’s work, I’m doing it because I love it. Because there is literally nothing else I’d rather be doing more.
So yes, we work on weekends, because the idea of a weekend has become mostly irrelevant to us. We work in the early mornings, we work in the late evenings, sometimes all the way through.
But we also take breaks. Yeah, you’ll sometimes find working on a new passion project for 12 straight hours on a Sunday by choice, but just as often you’ll find us at Dalton’s just a couple blocks over on a Tuesday afternoon with fries and a drink because we didn’t feel like working. If I need to step away from work, I do. If I feel like working, I do. The clock and calendar have nothing to do with it.
*I think if we had kids or one of us had a traditional job, this would probably be different; I think I would probably make sure I set aside dedicated family time. But we’re a self-employed family of two adults, which enables us to connect organically throughout the day.
I don’t take many photos
I used to take pictures of everything. What I was cooking, what I was eating. Sunset. Sunrise. Selfies. Grand Central every time I passed by. Literally everything my dog did. Until I realized that I almost never go back and look at any of the photos. And much worse, it serves as an excuse to keep our phone glued to our person. What if I need to take a photo?!
I’m not a purist. I do take the occasional pic, mostly if I think to share a little bit of my life with extended family, all of whom live in different states. But mostly these days I’d rather experience the moment than point my iPhone lens at it.
I try to go analog as often as possible
I love my Apple devices about as much as I love any of my possessions (In a fire, I’m grabbing my dog, my 12 inch iPad Pro with nano texture screen, and our go-bag with important documents in that order).
But I try also try look at something other than screens as often as possible.
I used to love the convenience of ebooks (especially in a tiny apartment with a tiny bookshelf) but these days I read physical books exclusively.
Afternoons and evenings always involve at least an hour with my notebooks, and I carry a little field notes book in my purse, even when I opt to leave my phone at home-especially then.
If I need a mental break, I try to reach for my sketchbook instead of a device.
Again, there are no rules. It’s not a “no screen time after 7pm” kind of thing, I just don’t want my phone to be a central part of my day. It’s worth noting that this becomes much easier when you don’t check email, don’t use social media, and don’t take photos. As such, much of the day I’m not even sure where my phone is.
One thing I would like to get better at is my mornings. I’d love to not keep the phone by the bed, but I need it to turn on the lights with our Home app at 3am when our blind, elderly dog gets a little disoriented trying to find her pee pad. That’s fine, but what happens more often that because I’m usually the first one awake and I don’t want to get out of bed, which wakes the dog, who then wakes the husband. So I reach for my phone as I wait for everyone else to wake up on their terms. Thus, far too often the first inputs into my brain in the morning is random crap on the internet.
I’d like to change that. Maybe do something crazy like lie there and … think.
I keep as few apps on my devices as possible
I used to be a bit of an app junkie, especially as it related to “productivity,” but I’ve made a concerted effort in the past couple years to simplify my life—routine, belongings, mindset, focus—and that includes my tech stack.
I’ll save the actual apps I use for another post, but my general rule is that they must be absolutely essential (Calendar, Messages) or delightful (or at least delight me). For example, I chose to purchase Things instead of using Apple’s free reminders app because I find the minimalist design is a joy to use.
Which is something I’ve been thinking a lot about lately as it relates to my tech use. Joy.
We talk a lot about what tech does—how convenient, how useful, how easy to connect! And we’re quick to point out tech’s benefits as a justification for how often we’re staring at screens, but less willing to question what it costs us.
Yes, tech can help us save time. But is it time well spent?
Do we take that extra time to write that book we’ve been meaning to? Send a postcard to a college friend? Dust off the hobby we always say we’ll revisit? Read a book? Make brownies for a neighbor? Write a thank you note to our mail (wo)man?
Or do we google yet another pointless thing, amassing knowledge that we’ll never do anything with, because that would require us to put the phone down. Doomscroll our news app/site of choice and get all worked up about the state of the world. Watch another video of someone making a viral sandwich. Refresh our email/DMs.
Somewhere along the way, we stopped asking how tech feels—how it makes us feel.
If we’re not walking away clearer, calmer, more joyful, or more connected to what matters after picking up our phone, tablet, or computer—maybe it’s worth asking why we picked it up in the first place.