When the app came back

It'll come back. A week of late finishes, a cold, a fortnight when the shelf ran out and the standing shop didn't happen, and one night you're on the sofa with the box and it's been five nights in a row and the list on the fridge has a splash of something on it.

The first thing to know is that five nights isn't the habit back. Lally's study found that a missed day didn't materially set back a habit that was forming, and I'd extend that, as my own view, to a missed week. The six are still on the fridge. You still know how to make them. What's gone is the shelf, probably, and the morning look, certainly, and both of those are ten minutes to put back.

The second thing is not to make the return an event. The temptation, after a lapse, is to plan a proper week of cooking, a shop, a menu, a fresh start on Monday. That's the event again, and the event is what got you here. The return is one plain plate tonight, from whatever the shelf has left, and the standing shop tomorrow. Not a plan. A pan.

The third thing is to ask which belief let the app back in. Usually it's one of chapters 3 to 16, and usually it's the same one each time. If it was tiredness, the six need a couple more sit-down meals in them. If it was "there's nothing in", the standing shop needs a fixed day. If it was "I've earned it", the takeaway night needs choosing on Sunday so that Tuesday can't claim it. The lapse tells you which part of the method was thin, and that's useful, and it's the only use to make of it.

And no counting. Not five nights in a row, not a streak, not a score. The plain plate on the sixth night is just dinner, and the person who made it is the same person who ordered on the fifth, with the pan on.