I gotta tell you guys, I'm confused here. I am writing this on Friday night, December 30. I like to write on Friday nights. But frankly, I don't even know what I am writing about. That's just how confused I am.

As much as my life would seem to indicate otherwise, I do treasure routine. Many times I feel like my routine is to have no routine at all. Maybe that has never been truer than this New Year's weekend.

I really have no New Year's Eve routine. About 80% of my New Year's Eves have involved Guy Lombardo, Johnny Carson and Dick Clark. I do make a conscious effort to have an adult beverage at midnight, but that's usually the same adult beverage I had at 7pm. Other than that, I got nothin.'

But now here's the routine. I wake up on New Year's day. Headaches and nausea are okay on those mornings. Actually, it's preferred. Brain fog kind of gets me into the real meaning of the day – you know?

Okay. So I get up, drink coffee, eat some toast maybe, then put the blackeyes into a soak. After the pea soaking, I build a nest of sorts on the sofa - my perch to watch college football bowl games. Somewhere between the end of the Cotton Bowl and the beginning of the Rose Bowl, I start thinking collards. Usually, by the time the Orange and Sugar Bowls kick off, the pork chops are fried, the gravy is prepared and the blackeyes and collards are deep into an aromatic simmer. My good luck and fortune meal is devoured during the typically two best bowl games of the long and wonderful day.

As is my routine, I usually go blackeye and collard shopping at the Food Lion on December 30 or 31. A few times over the years, I was too late to find my New Year's staples. One year I even had to settle for dried pinto beans. I think I had little luck the year following. But who can tell, right?

This year, for the first year ever, I bought my New Year's meal fixin's on December 28. Do you have any idea how out of the norm that was for me? December 28?!?! I don't know. This year I just wanted to be prepared. Then – I learned the damnable truth. This year, New Year's day is on some sort of Daylight Savings Time or something. The real New Year's Day doesn't hit until January second! Even I can recover from a New Year's Eve hangover by the second! Who wants to nestle into a warm and old sofa, watch Bowl games and smell peas and collards simmer when they are wide awake and feeling great? Not me. If you can't be tired, nauseous and nap during the Citrus Bowl, what the hell's the point of the day?

So, I have collards and pork in the refrigerator. I have dried blackeyes in the cupboard. Now what? To make matters worse, I agreed to go with a good friend to a University of North Carolina basketball game at 3-o'clock New Year's day. But then again, why the hell shouldn't I go? Spending the first day of the year watching the NFL Carolina Panthers get creamed by the NFL New Orleans Saints is kind of meaningless to the holiday. At the same time, the basketball game is at 3! I won't get home until 6 at the earliest. When the hell do I soak and simmer stuff? Should I reschedule the entire day and cook tomorrow? If I do, when do I eat it? Will I have less luck and fortune if I prepare the meal a day early? What if I eat it a day early? You see my dilemma here?

I just cannot take another chaotic year. But I guess I have no choice but to begin another one that way. Maybe that's the answer. Maybe my routine is not no routine at all. Maybe my routine is, always has been and always will be, simply, chaos. Oh well. If the Tar Hells win Sunday, and if the collards aren't soggy, how the hell can I complain? Right?

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