How I Committed Habit Homicide (Without Even Noticing)
Step 1: Remove keys. Step 2: That’s it.
The Crime Scene
I used to check the mail every day. Religiously. For decades.
Not because I was expecting love letters, handwritten notes from distant cousins, or million-dollar checks. It was just part of the rhythm. A background habit so reliable it didn’t need remembering. It lived quietly inside another habit: the morning walk.
Here’s how it went:
Take morning walk.
Grab keys (because our old front door needed them to lock).
Mailbox key was on the ring.
Finish walk, pass the mailbox, check the mail.
Done. No effort. No reminder. Just automatic.
That’s what habits do. They automate things so your brain can focus on more important matters—like wondering what day it is or deciding if coffee counts as breakfast (yes).
The Trigger Vanishes
Then everything changed.
We moved out of our house and into an RV for ten months. I swapped physical mail for a virtual mailbox in South Dakota. They’d scan everything and I’d click “trash” or “forward” depending on what it was and where I happened to be parked. No physical mailbox. No key. No cue.
Then we moved back into a house.
You’d think the old routine would return on cue.
It didn’t.
Why?
Because our new house doesn’t require a key. It has a push-button lock.
Which means I don’t grab keys before I walk.
Which means I don’t bring the mailbox key.
Which means I don’t check the mailbox.
Which means my once-beautiful routine is now decomposing under a pile of junk mail, credit card offers, and mystery envelopes I haven’t opened in 3 weeks.
The Habit Autopsy
The mailbox didn’t change.
My intentions didn’t change.
But the cue—the trigger that made the behavior happen—vanished.
And that’s all it took.
In behavior science, this is known as habit discontinuity. When a context cue is removed, even accidentally, the behavior tied to it often dies too.
No drama. No resistance. Just… gone.
Habits aren’t fueled by motivation. They’re fueled by repetition in stable environments. Change the environment, even slightly, and your brain stops autopiloting.
You didn’t forget. Your brain just stopped getting the signal.
Convenience Was the Accomplice
The push-button door lock was innocent enough. A modern convenience. Sleek. Quiet. Deadly.
Because with no need for keys, I stopped carrying the one thing that tethered my habit to reality: the mailbox key.
Sometimes convenience doesn’t just make life easier, it quietly erases the structure that kept it working.
How to Prevent Future Habit Homicides
If you’re mourning a habit that once felt solid, ask yourself:
What changed in your environment?
What cue did you lose?
What behavior was piggybacking on something else?
Here’s how to revive it:
Rebuild the cue
Put the mailbox key somewhere visible. Hook it to something else. Set a reminder. Literally tape a note to the door: “CHECK THE MAIL, LAURIE.”Pair it with an existing habit
Coffee + check mail. Shoes on + check mail. Afternoon tea + check mail. Stack it on something that already happens.Accept that motivation isn’t the problem
You didn’t lose discipline. You lost the signal. Rewire it.
Epilogue
So yes, I committed habit homicide.
It wasn’t personal. It wasn’t intentional.
But I still have to live with the consequences—mainly, 21 days of unopened mail and a creeping sense of adult failure. (Yes, you read that right…21 days. Don’t judge me.)
The habit was good. Strong. Innocent.
But the cue disappeared.
And the loop unraveled.
Let this be a cautionary tale. May your own habits rest in peace—or better yet, be revived with intention.
Before You Go…
If this made you laugh, nod, or feel personally attacked by your own front door… you’d love The Habit Healers Mindset’s Inner Circle.
Every week, I send out deeper habit breakdowns (with less crime scene tape, usually), along with tools, trackers, and reflection guides to help you rebuild the habits that heal.
No fluff. No guilt. Just honest, science-backed support, and the occasional behavioral autopsy.
Join the Inner Circle if you want habits that actually stick around.
Now, enjoy the Habit Death Certificate and your personal CSI: Habit Edition. May your routines rest in peace—or rise again stronger.
Habit Death Certificate
“For when a beloved behavior quietly passes.”
Habit Death Certificate
Name of Habit: __________________________________________
(e.g., Morning Walk Mailbox Check)
Date of Birth: ___________________________________________
(When it started feeling automatic)
Date of Death: ___________________________________________
(When you noticed it had vanished)
Cause of Death (check all that apply):
☐ Loss of environmental cue
☐ Relocation / travel
☐ Technology upgrade
☐ Schedule chaos
☐ Habit neglect
☐ Overconfidence
☐ Life just happened
☐ Unknown / suspicious circumstances
Last Known Cue:
(e.g., “Keys in hand as I walked out the door”)
Known Accomplices:
☐ Keyless entry system
☐ Smart devices
☐ Disrupted routine
☐ Seasonal changes
☐ Couch
Was habit tied to another anchor?
☐ Yes — it piggybacked on: ____________________________
☐ No — it stood alone and brave
Emotional Impact of Loss (scale of 1–10):
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
Autopsy Notes (optional):
What could have kept it alive?
Potential for Resurrection:
☐ Strong — just needs a new cue
☐ Moderate — might need habit stacking
☐ Weak — might need to let it go and rebuild from scratch
Signed,
The Formerly Automatic Brain of: ___________________________
May its memory be a blessing. Or at least a lesson.
BONUS: CSI—Habit Edition
Cold Case File: The Curious Case of the Disappearing Routine
Case File No. 037-A: “Mailbox Mayhem”
Filed by: Internal Behavior Bureau
Agent Assigned: You (and your prefrontal cortex)
Incident Summary:
On or around [insert vague adulting timeline], subject reported a total collapse of a once-automatic habit: checking the mailbox.
Routine had been stable, consistent, and emotionally neutral for years. Then, without warning, it vanished.
The environment had changed. The cues were missing. The brain had no comment.
Primary Suspect:
A modern push-button door lock. Smooth. Convenient. Deadly for contextual cues.
Scene Description:
No keys grabbed before walk.
No tactile reminder of mailbox key.
No check-ins with mailbox for days.
Evidence of junk mail overflow found. Possibly intentional.
Witness Statements:
“It was a solid habit. Always reliable.”
— Subject's former self“I mean… I was just trying to make the door easier to open.”
— The Lock“She passed me every day and never looked up.”
— The Mailbox (voice shaking)
Forensic Findings:
Brain's habit loop had no cue to launch routine.
Motivation levels unchanged.
Habit simply deactivated due to environmental shift.
Recommendations for Recovery:
Reintroduce external cue (e.g., sticky note, visible key, alarm).
Habit stack with current routines.
Monitor mailbox for signs of reconnection.
Case Status:
Open but hopeful. With intervention, this habit may return from the dead.
So true. One little change and your habit vanishes! I try to set up basic habits tool One that I need to develop would help with "Where the heck did I put my cell phone?" It's like a daily (okay, several times a day) scavenger hunt for my phone. I know this. Do I put it in the same place when I get home? No. that would totally ruin the hunt.
As always, good points! The CSI Bonus is terrific! Funny and fitting. Thanks for ending my computer reading on a high today.