Brains!

Where I work, the door between the office suite and the hall is a glass door with a handle, and it only opens one direction. When you go out, you have to push it open. This is very difficult to remember, for some mysterious neuronal reason, and all of us in the office have repeatedly attempted to pull it open, which makes an unpleasant banging/thumping noise and alerts everyone in the area that you have the shallowest learning curve in human history. For a long time there was a post-it note stuck to the door at eye level on the inside that read "Push." Eventually somebody added "for peace" below it (it's that kind of office).

Then somebody took the note off, and now I have no cue. The weird thing is that when I go through that door, I think of the note - I used to actually visualize it, but now I just think "push for peace". If I don't think of the note, I inevitably try to pull the door open. Brains are so strange.