Typical Day
It's 5:30AM on Tuesday morning, and Theresa Robinson is already in the kitchen brewing coffee. She's dressed in yoga pants, a light shirt, and walking shoes, all set for her morning walk. After filling her travel tumbler with coffee and a little cream, she heads out the door. What started out as doctor's orders to help get her blood pressure down has become something she actually looks forward to, much to her surprise.
Forty-five minutes later, she's back at the house. She unrolls her yoga mat for fifteen minutes of stretching and meditation. Fully awake now and ready to start her day, she wakes her husband, Andrew, and steps into the shower.
By 7:15AM, she's wearing her favorite blue business suit, and has her makeup done and her short hair neatly coiffed. She quickly checks her email for any urgent messages and is happy that, for once, no one needs her to call right now. She joins her husband and twelve-year-old son, Andrew Jr.—Drew, for short—at the breakfast table. Fiber cereal and orange juice for her, eggs and toast for the boys.
As they finish eating, Theresa's phone chimes to tell her she has a text. It's her driver, pulling up to their house. "Alright, Drew," she says as she gets up from the table. "Time to go." She grabs her briefcase and purse, kisses Andrew goodbye, and heads out the door with Drew. "Good morning, Jeff," she calls to the driver as they approach the car.
Taking her son to school and chatting about anything that comes to his mind is Theresa's favorite part of the day. Drew is much more talkative heading to school than he is at the end of the day. Quality time is a precious commodity, given her busy schedule.
After dropping Drew off, she heads for the office. Having Jeff drive her to work has been a blessing. In addition to freeing her from the stress of traffic, it gives her a head-start on the morning's tasks during the one-hour commute.
She checks emails on her phone, responding to some of them and filing others to be dealt with later. Then she calls her executive assistant to verify the day's schedule. As usual, most of her day will be in one meeting or another. But she wouldn't have it any other way.
Her mentor, Bert Mitchell, gave her some key advice. He was the CEO of Prideland Country Farms before retiring and naming her as his successor, and he often preached the value of meetings. "Sometimes you need to be the captain of the ship," he'd say, "and sometimes you need to just listen."
Between 9:00AM when she arrives and 6:00PM when she leaves, every minute of Theresa's day is already accounted for in her schedule. Upon arrival, she's able to squeeze in a half hour of report reviewing and note making before her 9:30AM meeting.
Her two-hour meeting with her chief officers will cover all the hot topics, such as sales figures and production numbers. One of those hot topics today is shelf space.
She hopes her sales director will have good news on his negotiations with current grocery stores to feature more Prideland chicken in their meat displays. More shelf space means more sales, and it'd also be nice to pick up some contracts with stores in markets they haven't penetrated yet.
At 11:15AM, Theresa calls for a wrap-up of all remaining agenda items. She's a stickler for starting and ending meetings on time, mostly because everyone has other meetings to prepare for or go to. Late-running meetings can boondoggle the rest of the day.
At 11:30AM, she thanks her chiefs and directors for their great work, and heads out the door for her office. She's wondering if she has time for a quick trip to the restroom when Tammy Roster, her marketing director, intercepts her in the hallway.
"Got a minute to give me your thoughts on our chicken pride campaign?" Tammy asks.
Theresa sighs with a smile. "Sure, let's go to my office. Better yet, tell me over lunch. I'm starving. My doctor makes me eat chicken food for breakfast!" The women laugh and head to the café across the street.
Fifty-two minutes later, Theresa is back at her desk. As much as she enjoys Tammy's company, all she could think about during lunch was the 500 emails piling up in her inbox. Not all of them need to be answered—many are just to keep her in the loop on projects—but all need to be read or at least glanced at.
Most of the rest of her afternoon will be like the morning, filled with meetings with directors and managers. There's a half hour to review the website redesign, an hour set aside to discuss a new agreement with their farmers on minimum standards for how they are to raise their poultry, a review of the production of eggs and chicken feed, and a strategy meeting to discuss business development to wrap up the day.
Between meetings, Theresa's hoping for a few minutes here and there for impromptu conversations with staff. She likes to walk the floor of a part of the building that hasn't seen her face in a while. She won't get to talk to everyone, of course, but it's important to her that she interacts with her employees and makes an effort to learn about their lives.
At 5:50PM, she calls Jeff to let him know she's ready to go. Five minutes later he arrives and she walks out to the car for the drive home. Her first call is to the house, and she smiles when Drew answers.
After prying a few details about his day out of him, she asks to speak to his father. She tells Andrew she's on her way, and he gives her some good news—chicken parmesan for dinner. Andrew loves to cook, and chicken parmesan is his specialty.
Dinner is ready when she walks through the door at 7:00PM. Drew has just a little more homework to finish up before his favorite TV show comes on at 8:00PM, so he finishes quickly and excuses himself from the table. Well, sort of—he's already out of his chair and heading for his bedroom desk when he mumbles "May I be excused?" Theresa dismisses him with a wave and a smile, though he didn't wait around to see it.
In addition to family dinner, family TV time is nearly sacred. The three of them watch something from the DVR—a cop drama, tonight—then Theresa opens her laptop to work on a few reports before bedtime.
Two hours later she stumbles into the bedroom where Andrew is already in bed. She sighs as she gets under the covers and closes her eyes. She dreams about the two things she knows best: chickens and money. Lots of chicken; lots and lots of money.