The treat that became the habit
The only hour alone, shift work, the bag from the shop, the children, and the treat that's harmless
The method assumes an ordinary day with an evening in it and a reader who can decide what happens at six. Not everyone has that. Each of these changes something, and I'll take them in turn.
The only hour alone. For some readers the treat is the only time in the day that's theirs, the glass after the children are down, the bar at the counter in the quiet. Taking it away looks like taking away the hour. Don't. Keep the hour. The hour is the thing you need, and the treat has been standing in for it. Sit in the quiet with the glass and you've got the hour and a glass. Sit in the quiet without it and you've still got the hour, and my guess is that after a few evenings the quiet turns out to have been the treat all along. The blank day here is about finding out which part you were protecting.
Shift work. Six o'clock may be your morning, or the middle of your sleep. The hour is whatever hour follows work, and the method is the same with the clock moved. The one thing to add is that the treat after a night shift is often doing the job of a signal that it's time to sleep, and if it's alcohol it does that job badly. The lie-in costs more than it gives, earlier in this series, covers what a shifted sleep needs, and a treat isn't on the list.
The bag from the shop. Your partner comes in with the bottle, or the bar, or says "shall we order", and the treat arrives whether you chose it or not. This is a conversation, and a short one. You're not asking them to stop. You're asking them not to bring yours on the days you've decided are blank, and to have theirs if they want it. Most partners will, and some will join in, and the ones who push back are worth listening to, because "you're no fun" is sometimes the earning coming from the next chair.
The children. If the treat is shared with the children, the ice cream after tea, the film, then it's theirs as well as yours, and rationing it for your reasons is unfair on them. The move is to separate the two. The children's thing stays as it is, and yours, the glass beside it, is what the method is about. There's a second point, which is that a daily treat in front of children teaches them the earning, and Let them do it badly and They're nine, not lazy touch on what children learn from what they watch. A treat that's rare and chosen teaches something better.
The treat that's genuinely harmless. A square of chocolate. A cup of good coffee at four. Ten minutes of a game. Cheap, small, no cost you can find. Fine. Keep it, and the first way out in chapter 18 is the one, keep the treat and drop the earning. The book's argument isn't that a harmless treat is harmful. It's that calling it a reward every day has spent the word, and if you'd like the word back for the days that need it, the harmless treat needs to be a routine and not a prize. If you don't need the word back, you've nothing to change.
The bigger habit you dropped. Some readers stopped smoking, or drinking, or something else, and the daily is what took its place, and they're fairly sure that's a good trade. It probably was. The question is whether the trade is finished, or whether the new daily is doing the old one's job of covering the hour. If it's the second, the hour is still uncovered, and the method here is gentle enough to try without putting the old habit at risk. If it isn't, and the thought of blanking the new daily brings the old one back into view, leave the new daily alone and read the earlier book for the old one instead.
When you tried and it was bleak. If you've had blank days before and they weren't flat but heavy, and the heaviness was there before six and after it and on the days with the treat too, and it's been like that for a fortnight or more, the NHS describes that as the pattern to take to a GP. The treat isn't the cause, and blank days won't help, and the book's method should wait until you've had that conversation.