Being of the traditional kind, my day typically begins when I wake up. Due to the combination of pigeons (Satan’s own alarm clock), noisy neighbours and my new weather-inspired policy of sleeping with all windows open, today this happened at the ungodly hour of nine.
After the necessary rituals of early morning (shower, breakfast, shouting at random people in the street for walking too noisily), I go and survey my dominion. Due to the limited scope of my dominion, this generally does not take very long. Sometimes it may take a little longer, for example when it has been infested with punk bands hiding from “the man”, or polar bears heading south for the summer. Though so far this has not happened, yet.
After breakfast, I like to take my cabbage for a walk. Cabbages don’t particularly need to or even like to go for walks (sometimes it feels like I’m just dragging it through the streets), but – like infanticide – it is just something we Dutch people like to do. We find it imbues a sense of responsibility in the cabbage’s caretaker and it beats eating the cabbage, which tastes like a dirty sock left in a puddle of despair. It also helps that I live across the street from the office of a Dutch social democratic party. I thoroughly enjoy standing in front of their office with my cabbage on a string telling passers-by that I always vote for them because of their pro-cabbage policies.
I live in The Hague, which offers a rich choice in museums, theatres, parks and other possibilities for outings. I like to make the most of this by picking one such outing every weekend and then not going on it. This is not only a great way to avoid being drawn into conversations about the vividness of the colour yellow with people who have opinions on both the colour yellow and the (lack of) vividness thereof, but also saves a good deal of time and money. Today I have decided not to attend the exhibition “Sleeping Beauty” at The Hague’s Gemeentemuseum. This has the added advantage of being outside of the town’s centre and saving me at least fifteen minutes of cycling.
After such a cultural day, it is time to go home to give my cabbage a good beating. This is not a euphemism; if you do not beat your cabbage regularly, it starts to develop delusions of grandeur. As is well known, cabbages are stridently expansionist and any confidence they gain will no doubt lead to aspirations of once again militarily unifying Europe. So do us all a favour and beat your cabbage at least once a week.
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