Your 4 PM Drink Is the Fastest Off-Switch You've Ever Found, and It Runs on Tomorrow's Power

Written by Dr. Alan Mercer, MD

I'm about to make enemies of every beer company with a Friday night commercial, every bar with a 4 PM chalkboard out front, and every doctor who has ever looked at a worn out patient and said "just cut back."

Because what I'm about to show you could cost them a lot of afternoons.

And I've stopped caring.

After watching Gina's phone slide across my desk with a picture of her husband on it, sitting on his own tailgate at ten to four with a can in his hand and nobody around for a mile...

After hearing Tony, 47, a man who can walk a steep roof in January, say to me in my own office, "Doc, I built half the houses on my street. I can't make it to four o'clock."...

After watching the "experts," me included, hand him a calendar, then a pill, then a pamphlet about cutting back, and call that a plan...

I knew we had failed him, and by we I mean me.

So I went looking for what actually runs the off-switch in a brain like his, and I found something that changed how I treat every person who walks into my clinic.

And if you're reading this at your desk with one eye on the clock, or you've started doing that little math about how early is too early, or you made that quiet promise this morning that today would be different... please keep reading.

The next 5 minutes could be the most important of your life.

My name is Dr. Alan Mercer. I've specialized in ADHD for 26 years, and I run the Dopamine Restoration Clinic. Some of the people who sit across from me have a diagnosis. Plenty of them don't. A lot of them have jobs and kids and a mortgage and one drink at the end of the day that keeps showing up a little sooner.

The CDC counted about 15.5 million American adults with a current ADHD diagnosis in 2023, and roughly half of them didn't get that diagnosis until they were grown. The CDC has also reported that about 9 out of 10 adults who drink too much don't meet the criteria for alcohol dependence.

Every week they arrive with the same two sentences. "I think something might be wrong with me." And "I've tried cutting back and it never sticks."

What nobody asks them is why it's four o'clock. Why not noon? Why was it six o'clock three years ago?

I didn't ask either, for about 25 years. Then came the Tuesday afternoon that shattered everything I thought I knew...

The 4 PM that changed how I treat ADHD…

Tony is 47. He started framing houses with his uncle at nineteen, went out on his own with a roofing crew at thirty, and he has put up more of his own street than the people who live on it realize. He and Gina have been married 21 years. They have a son, Nico, who is 11 and thinks his father can fix anything, which for the most part he can.

Nobody has ever diagnosed Tony with anything. His fifth grade teacher wrote "does not stop talking, does not finish" on a report card his mother kept. He can hold an entire job in his head, every delivery and every inspector and the schedule of every guy's kid's baseball team, and he cannot tell you where his keys are.

Gina made the appointment. He came in the way men like Tony come in, which is annoyed and early.

She sat down, took out her phone, and slid it across my desk without saying anything.

It was a picture she'd taken through her windshield. So she's driving out to his job site that afternoon because he left his lunch cooler on the kitchen counter, and she pulls up across the road, and the crew has gone home early because of the wind. The street is empty. The low sun is coming in sideways. Tony is sitting on the lowered tailgate of his truck in that dusty canvas jacket he's had since Nico was born, with a beer open in his hand, and he isn't even drinking it. He's just sitting there looking at nothing, with his shoulders down around his ribs.

The time on the photo said 3:50.

She didn't get out of the car. She told me she had never seen him sit still that long in 21 years, and she drove home with the cooler still on the passenger seat.

He looked at that picture for a while, there on my desk. Then he said it, quiet, not really to me.

"Doc, I built half the houses on my street. I can't make it to four o'clock."

He wasn't a falling down drunk. He has never had a DUI and he has never missed a job. Three years earlier the first beer had been at 6:30, at the grill, with Nico throwing a ball against the garage door. Then it was five, when he got home. That fall it was ten to four on a tailgate, and he'd started keeping a small cooler behind the seat.

What killed me was how hard he had already tried.

He put a wall calendar next to the fridge and crossed off every day he didn't drink. The X's went for nineteen days and stopped on a Thursday. Nico asked him why they stopped, and Tony took the calendar down.

He poured a whole case down the kitchen sink, can by can, with the water running so Gina wouldn't hear it. He bought another on Friday.

He switched to non-alcoholic beer and drank it out of a plain can on the same tailgate. He said it tasted all right and did nothing, like shaking hands with a mannequin.

His family doctor put him on an antidepressant, and he swallowed it at the kitchen counter every morning for four months. It flattened the whole day, including the parts he used to like, and the 4 PM feeling showed up on schedule anyway.

He bought a gym membership so he'd have somewhere to be at five o'clock. Gina found out later that he spent most of those treadmill miles staring at the clock on the wall.

She got him to a meeting in the back room of a Methodist church. He sat in a folding chair with his arms crossed for an hour and left before the coffee. He told me the people in that room were braver than he was, and that he still didn't know what he was doing there.

And then he came to me, and I gave him the speech. I told him to hold off until dinner and stop at two, and to write it all down. I wrote "reduce intake" in his chart. I've written those two words thousands of times in 26 years, and I watched him nod the way a man nods at a parking ticket.

He stopped at the door on the way out.

"Doc, do you actually know why it's four o'clock?"

I said we could talk about that at the next visit.

I sat in my office after they left, with the lights off, and I went back through my files. Twenty six years of people telling me about the same hour of the day, and I couldn't find one place where I had written down why.

The mind blowing discovery: what actually runs the switch

Three weeks later I flew to Denver and drove up to Boulder to see this woman named Dr. Evelyn Marsh. She's a neurochemist, she has been studying dopamine for forty years, and she taught half the people who taught me. Her lab is in a basement and it smells like coffee and old paper.

I told her about Tony, and I told her I'd been asking him for months why he drinks.

She didn't say anything for a minute. Then she reached over to this old desk lamp on her bench and clicked it on. Nothing. She clicked it off. She clicked it on again. Nothing. I looked down, and the cord was lying on the floor, plugged into nothing at all.

"Alan, you keep asking why they drink. Ask what's in the wires at four o'clock."

I gave her my 26 year answer. I said ADHD is a problem of attention and impulse, and alcohol is a depressant, and some people are just wired for addiction.

She said that was all true and it didn't explain the clock. So she pulled out a legal pad and she drew me the switch.

"Your brain has a network that runs whenever nothing else is demanding it," she said. "The researchers call it the default mode network. You'd call it the chatter. It's the part of you that replays this morning's argument while you're trying to read to your kid, and it's supposed to go quiet when you need it to."

In people with ADHD, researchers have proposed that this network doesn't stay down when it should, so it keeps barging in. Edmund Sonuga-Barke and Xavier Castellanos laid that idea out in 2007.

Then she handed me a paper from Brookhaven National Laboratory. A team working with Nora Volkow, who runs the National Institute on Drug Abuse, had scanned people's brains and found that dopamine transporter levels tracked how well this chatter network shut down when the brain had a job to do.

The same year, in JAMA, Volkow's team put adults with ADHD in a PET scanner. They found lower dopamine markers in the brain's reward pathway than in adults without ADHD, and the lower those markers, the worse the attention problems. And study after study has found that people with ADHD have higher rates of alcohol problems.

"Everybody calls dopamine the pleasure chemical," she said. "It really isn't."

Kent Berridge at the University of Michigan spent decades showing that dopamine has far more to do with wanting and going after things than with enjoying them. And researchers believe it also helps the brain decide what deserves attention and what can be let go of.

That last part is the switch. A brain that can let go of something can close a tab, finish a thought, and sit on the back step without needing to be anywhere else.

I said, Evelyn, so you're telling me the off-switch runs on dopamine? She said that was as good a kitchen table version as I was going to get, so long as I remembered it was a kitchen table version.

Then she drew a clock.

"Now give that brain a day like your roofer's," she said.

Amy Arnsten at Yale has spent her career showing that stress knocks the prefrontal cortex, the part of the brain that does the deciding and the braking, partly offline. And when military researchers pushed people hard with cold and thin air, performance held up better with a very large dose of extra tyrosine, the raw material dopamine gets made from.

So a brain that starts out short spends ten hours with every tab open, and by mid afternoon, on her theory, it can have very little left over to settle itself with. That's Tony on the tailgate, flipping a switch with no electricity behind it.

"And then one day," she said, "somebody hands that brain a beer."

In 2003, a team at McGill University in Montreal gave volunteers a drink, scanned them, and watched dopamine get released in the brain's reward center. That's the same neighborhood where Volkow would later find adults with ADHD running short. Alcohol also leans on GABA, the brain's brake. So a worn out brain gets a push of dopamine and a hand on the brake inside an hour, the shoulders drop, and for the first time all day the chatter backs off.

He was never after the beer. He was standing at a dead switch, and alcohol was the only thing that had ever made the lights go down.

I said, so why doesn't it keep working? Why does he need it sooner every year?

She stopped smiling.

"Because a release isn't a refill, Alan."

The real root cause: why the drink keeps creeping earlier

So I flew home and I started asking every patient who drinks to switch off one new question. "What time was your first drink five years ago? And what time is it now?"

Nobody had ever asked them that. Some of them went quiet. Most of them knew the answer to the minute, which tells you how long they'd been staring at it. I wrote the times down on a yellow pad, and the column only ever moved in one direction.

I call it "Dead Switch Syndrome." That's my name for it, not a diagnosis you'll find in any textbook.

And for me, it explained EVERYTHING.

Picture a house that got wired a little light from the day it was built. It runs fine in the morning, but by mid afternoon every appliance in the place is on, the breaker is warm and the lights are going dim. Then this guy shows up who'll run a cable over from your neighbor's panel, just for tonight. The lights come up beautifully, and you feel like a person again. Only the neighbor is you, tomorrow.

Three things can go wrong at the same time:

The wires came in thin. Researchers believe many ADHD brains run short on dopamine signaling to begin with. That's the house from the day it was built, and it may be part of why one drink can feel like medicine to you and like nothing much to your brother in law.

The quiet gets borrowed. Alcohol pushes dopamine out, and the brain answers back. Scientists have been describing that answer since the 1970s, and they call it an opponent process. George Koob, who now runs the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism, built a career showing how, with repeated heavy drinking, the brain turns down its own reward system and turns up its stress system. "Borrowing" is my word, not the textbook's, because that's how it feels from the inside. And when Volkow's team scanned people with alcohol dependence who had been through detox, dopamine release in the reward pathway was markedly lower than in healthy adults, even after they had stopped.

The night takes its cut. Alcohol can help you fall asleep, and then it breaks up the second half of the night. Reviews of the sleep research have found that pattern over and over. And when Volkow's group kept healthy people awake for one night, they saw signs of lower dopamine receptor availability the next morning. That was a full night awake and not a broken one, so it's a clue and not proof. But tomorrow can start with less getting through the wires than today had, and your brain has already learned exactly where the cable is.

That's the picture as I see it. Thin wires, borrowed quiet, and a night that never pays it back. And it shows up on the clock.

• Why 4 PM became 3 PM... you can start each day a little further behind, so the wires can run down sooner, and the brain reaches for the one fix it trusts.
• Why one glass became two... the brain adjusts to the first one, so the same drink can buy less quiet as the years go by.
• Why the pill can make four o'clock feel worse... patients on a stimulant tell me their Add*rall carries them to mid afternoon, then it wears off and the whole day lands on them at once.
• Why cutting back is so hard to make stick... researchers link the job of saying no to the same frontal circuits that stress and low dopamine signaling wear down, so you're asking the tired part to do the heavy lifting.

And there's a whole industry that's delighted to keep running that cable.

Duke economist Philip Cook calculated that the top 10% of American drinkers drink more than half of all the alcohol consumed in the country. And if that top tenth drank like the next group down, he found, alcohol sales would fall by about 60%. Somebody even gave the hour a cheerful name. Happy hour.

They don't want you fixing the wiring, because the rented switch is the business model.

The rebuild hiding in plain sight

Remember Tony, on the tailgate at ten to four?

After Boulder I called him back in and told him I had been answering the wrong question for months. His doctor checked him over first, because a man who drinks every day doesn't get to just stop, and I told him not to pour anything down any sink. Then we started feeding his brain what it had been short on.

Week one was nothing. He called to tell me so, in about those words.

Week two he phoned from a job site on a Wednesday, around 4:30, and he sounded suspicious. He'd opened a beer out of habit and left half of it on the bumper, and he only found it when the crew was packing up. It was warm by then. He hadn't resisted anything. He just hadn't needed the rest of it.

Week four he told me four o'clock had started arriving without any announcement.

And around week six he sat in that same chair, picked up Gina's phone with the same picture still on it, looked at it for a while, and said:

"Turns out I was never chasing the beer. I was chasing the off part."

To put power back in a switch that has been running on a borrowed line for years, I came to believe you need to do THREE things at the same time:

Miss even ONE of these steps, and in my experience the switch stays dead.

White knuckling so often fails because you take away the borrowed line and leave the house wired exactly the same way, so the lights go dim again by Thursday.

Non-alcoholic beer can let people down for a different reason. It keeps the can and drops the chemistry, so you're holding the ritual with nothing on the other end of it.

Antidepressants help a great many people, and if one is helping you, stay on it. Tony's just wasn't built to put anything in these particular wires.

And the loose bottle of tyrosine off the pharmacy shelf has its own problem. Without the converter and the shield and the quiet, I think of it as a pile of lumber with no crew on site.

A Triple Action Feed, Shield and Quiet. And that's exactly what this formula was built around.

This breakthrough is making a lot of people uncomfortable

After Tony, word got around the clinic fast.

My colleague Nora, an ADHD nurse practitioner, stopped me at the coffee machine one morning.

"Whatever you did for that roofer. I have four people who need it. Yesterday."

Nora has sixteen years in ADHD care. She has seen every fad and every miracle gummy, and every patient who swore this one was different. She had never once asked me for anything.

She had a patient, Mr. Hutchins, 52, an HVAC installer who spent his days in other people's crawl spaces and went straight from the van to the fridge every night before he took his boots off. His wife timed it once. Eleven seconds.

I gave Nora the full protocol. She walked her patients through it, with their doctors in the loop.

A few weeks later, she texted me.

"Alan. Mr. Hutchins got home from work and forgot the fridge existed. His wife called me crying. Sixteen years in ADHD care and I've never seen that. I need this for every patient I have. NOW."

Within a few days of that I had people tracking me down, like this dental hygienist whose first glass had crept into her Friday lunch break, and a dad who'd started planning his errands so he would pass the liquor store.

And they all wanted to know the same thing Tony had asked me at the door. What's actually happening at four o'clock, and why has nobody told me?

That's when the pushback started.

When you threaten the rented off-switch business, they come for you

First, it was "friendly" warnings.

A colleague who runs a private outpatient program pulled me aside at a regional meeting. "Alan, people are calling about their wiring instead of booking an intake. You're making the rest of us look bad."

Translation: Stop before WE lose money.

Then came a letter from the compliance office of the hospital group our clinic works with, FINAL WARNING stamped across the top. Three pages reminding me to stay away from OFF-GUIDELINE PROTOCOLS. Stick to what everyone else does, or we have a problem.

Funny thing is, nobody had a guideline for what I was doing. Nobody has ever written one for four o'clock.

The final straw? A charity golf day sponsored by a regional beer distributor quietly took my name off the program.

They wanted me quiet because I had found something that made the whole arrangement look like what it is. A business that needs a tired brain to keep renting the switch, every single afternoon.

Two simple capsules a day that:

• Feed the raw material instead of borrowing from tomorrow
• Contain zero alcohol and zero stimulant drugs, and are non habit forming
• Cost less than a six pack a week on the 3 month supply
• Let people rebuild at home, alongside the care they already have

But that industry didn't count on one thing.

For months I had been sending patients home with a handwritten list, and they kept coming back with five bottles from Amazon, two hundred dollars gone, and cheap tyrosine with no converter.

Then Dr. Marsh mentioned that a former graduate student of hers had spent four years with a small supplement company, getting the whole thing into one capsule, in the right forms.

I asked for the label, and I read it the way I read research papers, looking for the place it was lying to me.

I didn't find one.

Introducing the formula the rented off-switch business doesn't want you to know about

It's called CTRL.

And it's the only formula I've found that does all three in one daily dose.

L-Tyrosine and Vitamin B6 as P-5-P... The feeders.

450mg of L-Tyrosine, the building block your brain turns into dopamine. Military researchers studied it in people under cold and sleep loss, at doses many times higher than what's in CTRL, and found it helped them hold onto memory and focus when their brains were running on empty. I'll be straight with you, because you deserve it. The research on tyrosine specifically in ADHD is limited and mixed, and anybody who tells you otherwise is selling something. It earned its place on this label as a building block. Plus 5mg of Vitamin B6 in its active P-5-P form, the helper your brain uses on the last step to dopamine.

Rhodiola Rosea... The shield.

200mg of Rhodiola Rosea standardized to 3% rosavins, an adaptogen studied for years in stress and fatigue, with mixed results. Lab studies, and only lab studies, suggest it may gently slow an enzyme that helps break dopamine down, and it is not a prescription MAO inhibitor. The standardized part matters, because when a study published in 2016 tested commercial Rhodiola products, some turned out to have little or none of the compounds they were supposed to carry.

L-Theanine, Magnesium Bisglycinate and Vitamin D3... The quieters.

200mg of L-Theanine, the calm amino acid from green tea. In Hidese's small trial of 30 healthy adults in Nutrients, four weeks of 200mg a day improved stress symptoms and sleep quality. 120mg of Magnesium Bisglycinate, a form people often find gentler on the stomach than the cheap oxide, and it matters here because heavy drinking makes the kidneys flush magnesium out. Plus 1000IU of Vitamin D3.

That's six ingredients aimed at three failure points at once. Every dose is printed on the label, nothing is hiding in a proprietary blend, and it's third party tested.

You literally just take two capsules every morning with breakfast. Morning, on purpose, so the wires have something in them before four o'clock comes around.

There's no caffeine in it and no stimulant drug of any kind, you don't need a prescription, and it isn't habit forming.

Just your brain finally getting what it's been borrowing:

Here is what the first 4 weeks looked like

This is how those weeks went for Tony. Yours will be your own, and every person's are a little different:

After four weeks? Four o'clock came, and Tony's head had its own way down.

His own quiet.

The results that have ADHD doctors scrambling

Over 18,600 people have used CTRL.

The results?

• An average rating of 4.8 out of 5
• Two capsules a day, with nothing in them to come down from
• Real customers telling us, in their own words, what changed

But my favorite stat? Fewer than 3 out of 100 people ask for a refund.

Don't take my word for it. These are real customers, and these are their words:

Rachel wrote that a week in, and she said herself she would come back and update it. It's printed here exactly the way she typed it. Results vary from one person to the next, and yours might not look like hers.

The price that is causing panic in the off-switch business

So I added up what an empty 4 PM REALLY costs in America:

The off-switch business LOVES the first two routes.

You know why? Because neither of them was built to feed the wires, and either way there's a cold one waiting at the end of the day with somebody still selling it to you.

It's a goldmine built on empty afternoons.

CTRL could easily have been priced like a specialty prescription. I recommend it because Tony told me he couldn't make it to four o'clock, because Nora's patient forgot the fridge existed, and because I was tired of telling people to cut back without ever giving them anything to put in the wires.

So here's the deal: one bottle of CTRL is $59. A full month. About what two beers a night costs in three weeks.

But that's not what you'll pay today.

The Black November "middle finger" to the rented off-switch

There's one more thing that makes me angry. Every week another patient shows me a "calm" or "unwind" gummy they bought off an ad. Cheap copycat formulas with a soothing name on the bottle, a pinch of something underdosed, and a proprietary blend so you can't check the numbers.

The answer to that is the Black November Sale, and the 3 month supply is 44% off.

When you take the 3 month supply, CTRL drops to $33 a bottle instead of $59.

That's right. About $1.10 a day.

And through November 30, code NOVEMBER takes even more off at checkout. The Black November Sale ends November 30 at midnight New York time.

That's less than one beer, and less than one specialist copay, and less than the non-alcoholic six packs you already bought.

But here is the catch (and it's a big one)

CTRL is not a drug. It is not a treatment for alcohol use disorder, for any addiction or for ADHD, and it will not replace your doctor.

Nobody has run a clinical trial of CTRL on drinking, and you should know that before you buy it.

If you're looking for something that makes you hate the taste of beer, or knocks you out at night, this is not it. CTRL feeds the system itself.

And this part matters more than anything else on this page. If you drink every day, or if you have ever had shakes, sweats, a racing heart, hallucinations or a seizure when you stopped, do not stop on your own. Alcohol withdrawal can be dangerous, and it can be deadly. Talk to your doctor first, and get help stopping safely. If you take ADHD medication, an antidepressant or anything else, keep taking it exactly as prescribed, never change or stop a prescription on your own, and show your doctor the CTRL label. If you're pregnant, the safest amount of alcohol is none, and ask your doctor before any supplement. And if drinking is costing you your job, your health or your family, you deserve real help, and there's no shame in asking for it. The SAMHSA National Helpline at 1-800-662-4357 is free, confidential and open all day and night.

Think of it as rebuilding a switch that has been running on a borrowed line for years. Give it about four weeks before you judge it.

That's why I recommend the 3 month supply. One bottle is enough to get started. Three gives you the time to find out what it does for you, without a gap in between.

And every month you wait is another month you're:

• Feeding an industry that sells more than half its alcohol to its heaviest tenth of drinkers
• Paying the interest on tonight's quiet every morning when you wake up
• Watching the first drink slide a little earlier on the clock
• Putting off the conversation you've been meaning to have with your own doctor

And a place to start is sitting right here, for about $1.10 a day.

The 30-day "quiet evenings or it's free" guarantee

Look, I get it. You've been let down before. A wall calendar that stopped on a Thursday. A case of non-alcoholic beer in the garage. A doctor who said "just cut back" and moved on to the next patient.

So this is the promise:

Try CTRL for 30 days. Two capsules every morning with breakfast. Feed. Shield. Quiet.

And if you don't notice a difference...

You get every penny back.

There's no form to fill out and no store credit nonsense, and nobody is going to make you justify wanting your money back. Just email info@try-balanced.com and say "It didn't work." A real person will respond within 24 hours. Your refund goes out the same week.

Fewer than 3 out of 100 people ask for a refund, and that number is the reason this guarantee can be this simple.

The company stands behind it. Period.

The choice that will define your next decade

A few months ago, Tony was sitting alone on his tailgate at dusk with a can in his hand, telling himself he'd head home in a minute.

He had done everything he was told, from the calendar and the sink to the pill and the folding chair, and every year the first beer moved a little closer to lunch.

Today he's in the backyard on a sunny Saturday with Nico, building a treehouse that has no business being that well framed, and there's lemonade in the cooler. Gina sent me a picture of that one too, shot from behind, the same way she caught him on the tailgate.

What changed? We stopped trying to shame him off the borrowed line and started putting power back in his own wires.

That's the idea CTRL was built around. And that's the same choice sitting in front of you right now.

You can keep renting. You can keep paying in the morning for what you borrowed at four, and keep feeding an industry that sells more than half its alcohol to its heaviest drinkers.

Or you can do what Rachel did. What Mike did. What over 18,600 people have done.

Feed the brain.

$33 a bottle on the 3 month supply. Less than one beer a day.

30 days to decide if it works.

Your brain was never weak. It was standing at a switch with nothing in the wires.

Here is exactly what to do next

1. Click the button below that says "APPLY DISCOUNT & CHECK AVAILABILITY"
2. Choose your supply (Pro tip: get the 3 month supply. Give it about four weeks before you judge it, and you'll save 44%.)
3. Fill out your shipping info and use code NOVEMBER at checkout to take even more off (Every order ships within 48 hours)
4. Take two capsules every morning with breakfast
5. In 30 days, email us and tell us what changed (info@try-balanced.com)

But whatever you do... don't close this page thinking "I'll start Monday."

Monday is another week of four o'clock. Monday is another morning paying for last night. Monday is another can in the cooler behind the seat.

Your brain has waited long enough. Click below and let's start feeding it.

GET 44% OFF CTRL NOW!

BLACK NOVEMBER SALE: The 3 month supply is $33 a bottle, 44% off, and code NOVEMBER takes even more off. Every order ships within 48 hours and is covered by our 30-day money-back guarantee.

With hope,
Dr. Alan Mercer

P.S. A woman, never diagnosed with anything, came into my office convinced she was becoming her mother. A few weeks later she told me, "I had wine with dinner on Saturday. One glass. And I enjoyed it. I haven't just enjoyed a glass of wine in ten years." I wrote that on a sticky note, and it's still on my monitor.

P.P.S. The rented switch model is simple: let an overstimulated brain find out at twenty that a drink turns the noise down, sell it that relief every afternoon for the next thirty years, and call the people who need it most "problem drinkers." Alcohol flips the switch by force and charges you interest the next day. My bet is on a brain that gets fed every morning, before four o'clock ever comes.

P.P.P.S. The Black November Sale ends November 30 at midnight New York time. Three months is enough time to see if your afternoons shift. Don't wait for the next tailgate, the next cooler behind the seat, the next morning you'd rather not remember. Start feeding your brain now.