Study planner
Stop deciding what to study. Open the app and do today's mission.
Nine answers build the plan: which published College Board date you are sitting and whether it is booked or intended, how many hours a week you have, which days of the week you actually study, the longest single stretch you can manage, how much preparation you have already done, whether you want the time split evenly or weighted to one section, roughly where you are scoring now and where that number came from, and what you are aiming at. Everything after that is the plan doing arithmetic on your calendar rather than handing you a syllabus.


Where this actually stands
Live, and now complete: the survey, the scheduling, the daily budget and the realism verdict all work, the plan rearranges itself whenever your skill estimates change — after drills, lessons and sittings alike — and it schedules full mocks, which it could not do while no form was published. Sitting one is the single biggest thing that moves the rest of the plan, because it is the only event that reweights every skill at once.
Most study planners ask for a test date and a weekly hour count, then divide one by the other. That produces a schedule that looks reasonable and collapses in week two, because it has assumed you study evenly across seven days in sittings of whatever length the arithmetic happened to produce.
The survey asks for the things that actually constrain a plan: which published College Board date you are sitting and whether it is booked or only intended, how many hours a week you genuinely have, which days of the week you study, and — the one nobody asks — the longest single stretch you can concentrate for. It also asks how much preparation you have already done, whether you want the time split evenly or weighted towards one section, roughly where you are scoring now and where that number came from, and what you are aiming at.
Everything after that is scheduling. The plan never hands you a task longer than the sitting length you gave it, and never puts one on a day you said you do not study.


A planner that accepts any target from any starting point is not planning. It is agreeing with you.
The plan compares the gap between your baseline and your target against the weeks and the hours you actually have, and returns one of a small set of verdicts — comfortable, on track, tight, ambitious, or that the date is too close to plan around at all. Every screen that shows a verdict also shows what it was calculated from, including where your baseline number came from, because a verdict built on a score you guessed deserves less weight than one built on a mock you sat.
This is the part people find annoying and it is the part worth having. Knowing in week one that a 250-point gain in five weeks is not going to happen is what lets you either move the date or change the target, both of which are still possible in week one and neither of which is possible in week five.
The plan is built from your skill estimates, and it rearranges itself whenever they change — after a set of drills, a finished lesson or a submitted mock, not once a day and not only after a mock. Lessons move towards the skills where your estimated mastery is lowest; drills put due reviews first, then the skills where practice is paying off. It is all measured from your answers rather than from what you clicked through, so there is no way to advance the plan by skimming, and when something moves your daily mission says what.
Changing an answer to the survey later — the date moves, your hours change, you decide to weight Math — rebuilds the schedule around the new constraint without discarding anything you have finished. A planner that resets your progress when your exam date slips is one you stop telling the truth to.
The daily budget is a single number for the whole day, so lessons, drills and review compete for the same minutes rather than each quietly adding their own. And the plan only schedules things you can actually open: a task pointing at a locked mock is a plan that lies to you once a day.
Each part is useful alone. Together they are the point.
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