A computer that does its own filing.

There's a name for it now: life admin. The receipts you meant to note down, the renewal that quietly went up, the appointment confirmation buried in promos, the letter from the tax office — in a language you'd rather not read today. None of it is hard. All of it together is a part-time job you never applied for.

Chatbots didn't fix this, because the work isn't writing — it's noticing, reading and filing, week after week, whether or not you have the energy that day.

• It has its own email address. Forward a receipt, an itinerary, a notice — from your phone, in the queue at the pharmacy — and it lands in your computer's Inbox as files. The filing app wakes up and handles it before you've put the phone away.
• Photos and scans are fine. A crumpled taxi receipt photographed on your knee, a scanned letter, a PDF from a machine older than you — read carefully, numbers kept exactly, source noted next to every entry.
• Any language. A letter in German, a receipt in Russian, a bill in Spanish — filed in yours, with the original kept.
• One tidy ledger, real files. Expenses land in a running document in My Documents — yours to open, download, or turn into a spreadsheet. Not a chat history. Files.
• It tells you what it couldn't do. An unreadable page or a missing amount becomes “1 thing I couldn't do” in plain sight — never a guessed number in your ledger.

A reading of a photo is a reading, not a certainty. That's why every ledger entry names its source file, keeps the original, and why anything illegible is flagged instead of invented.

What it reads goes to an AI provider to be understood, and that provider may retain it. File the paperwork of your life, not your employer's confidential documents — the privacy page is blunt about this.

Pay per use, not per month. Filing a receipt costs about a cent. A quiet week costs nearly nothing — there's no subscription meter running while you have no paperwork.