Every other tracker counts what you did. The research on habit formation measures something else entirely: automaticity — whether the thing still takes a decision. Two hundred days ground out by willpower is not a habit. It collapses the first hard week.
So every fifth time you mark a day, this asks one question: did it just happen? From your answers it draws your own curve, and tells you when your own plateau arrives — not a number borrowed from someone else's average.
When the curve flattens, this tells you to stop marking. A habit that is automatic does not need an instrument, and keeping score on it only adds a chore. Every app in this category makes money from you opening it; that is why none of them will ever say this.
A cue that lives in an app dies when the app is deleted. So the habit is named as the moment it happens — after coffee, I will… — and the cue stays in your kitchen, where it belongs.
No streaks to break, no day zero, no red. A blank day is a pause and costs nothing. The totals only ever go up, and a day filled in late looks exactly like a day filled on time — because the alternative is a product that quietly ranks your days.
Every instrument you want. One is free forever. The rest live here.
The record leaves this phone. Synced, backed up, and still yours if you drop it in a river.
Pictures kept with the days. And the printed year-book at the end of it.