Monday
Welcome lull in Du Rite engagement gives me a few days to bring order to my in-tray. Spend afternoon on office floor reorganizing entire filing system with colored labels. Catch up on consultant performance evaluation forms. File old business cards. Realize I haven't been headhunted in months.
Tuesday
Am I past it? Worried all night, dreaming I'm driving backwards on Storrow Drive while other cars whiz past honking angrily. Decide to inventory my assets. They are: Partner at A&P, smallish but respected strategy boutique. Strong in market segmentation. Published articles on same. Short but impressive client list including crown jewel Du Rite. Internal work on Knowledge Management for the firm. I'm no Shaheen, of course, but why isn't anyone calling? Maybe at 46 I'm seen as too old, burned out. Nonsense of course, but it's the young turks who've been poached, the John Bonanzas of this world. Funnily enough, minutes later I get a call from Heide Vertig, having a blast at HBS, still married to Bonanza unfortunately, wondering if I'd mentor her study group. Well it's not exactly headhunting, but it's nice to be wanted.
Theo calls, reminding me that it's his third birthday party this evening and not to be late. Yes, it's really nice to be wanted.
Wednesday
Same dream last night, except I was flattened by a sixteen-wheeler. Drove in (heading forwards) worrying about why I'm worrying about not being headhunted. Do I want out of good old A&P? Thanks to Du Rite this is my best year ever, and our firm is solid, unlike some of those e-consultancies. So what's bugging me?
Wonderful afternoon with Heide and her young colleagues, sitting on the B-school's lawn, calming them down about grades and interviews and double-entry bookkeeping. Heide confides that Bonanza is unemployed and morose. Try to act concerned while fighting urge to hoot with laughter.
Thursday
Am Editing my address book, when Ed Spanks at Old Wally Brewery calls,. Ed lobbies me to give the keynote at the American Master Maltster Association's confab. Flattered, I say yes before learning it's at an Elks Lodge in Akron next month.
Read Fortune cover to cover without a single interruption, then wander the halls. Armadillo oddly quiet, with most folks on the road. Donny Drucker looks up and smiles as I pass his door the third time. (DD is writing a management book — his highly innovative solution to retaining his Partner perks and pay without having to deal with clients or get on a plane anymore.) "Rule one," says Donny. "When you're on the beach, go home. Go home, Rayne, while you can." I realize he's right. I go home at four fifteen!
Friday
Get a haircut and saunter in around eleven. No messages except one spam offering me the chance to earn ten grand a month from home if I'm aggressive and ambitious. The best offer I've had all week! DD and I go out for lunch. His book is called Outfoxing: How Sinister CEOs Use Manic Tension to Shred Their Rivals, and it seems to me that Donny is working through some deep psychological problems under the disguise of a business best-seller. Good luck to him.
Around three thirty, Ken Armadillo walks in, shuts the door, and stands looking out of the window at the Citgo sign. Talk about manic tension! "Rayne," he says finally, "Pat Pounce has resigned from the firm. He's taking twenty-three employees to start an e-competitor. Three Partners, too. I'm having the locks changed as we speak. There'll be litigation." I profess shock, support, confidence. Ken waves me off. "I want to promote you to Head of Operations, Consulting, effective Monday. Plus, I need someone to save our ass at Rodent Oil in Texas before Pounce steals it from under us. You up for a fire drill?" Never readier, I tell him.
Within thirty minutes, I'm digesting cartons of documents about our Rodent work, while two nervous Associates tell me how ugly next week'll be in the Big D. The inevitable call comes from a headhunter working for an unnamed "young" consulting firm, and I tell her I'm 100% uninterested. Theo calls to say we're having blue Jell-O for dinner, and I tell him that Daddy's going to be late home. As the Rodent team orders anchovy pizza, I wonder about the future of the firm. "A&M," possibly? Now, that has a certain ring to it.
© Arc, All Rights Reserved. Request academic re-use from www.copyright.com. All other uses, submit a request to TMSalesOperations@arc-network.com. For more information visit Asset & Logo Licensing.