Close-Up: 24 hours with ... Alison Burns, JWT London

Name: Alison Burns
Job: Chief executive, JWT London
Professional mission: Do the right things
Personal mantra: Iron nothing

6.30am Wake up, aware of presence of the Polish builder. Cough up plaster dust and remind husband building work now two months past deadline.

7.00am Open fridge, determined to ingest no more than five blueberries.

7.01am Lick crumbs of chocolate croissant from lips and shake daughter awake. Pack her PE kit and stride purposefully toward bus stop.

8.00am Bang down door of agency caff. Where is everybody?

8.15am Wipe remnants of breakfast from chin and wonder why skirt zip broken. Must be dodgy sale purchase.

8.30am Send aggressive e-mail berating account teams for non-attendance at workflow meeting.

8.31am Receive impatient call from workflow meeting (elsewhere) asking whether I'd remembered 8.15 start.

9.15am Review work for diamonds, lawnmowers and medical remedies for various unpalatable conditions.

10.00am Revisit caff to find entire creative department tucking in to full English post early meeting.

10.10am E-mail largely unfounded office-bonking gossip to chairman, in knowledge it'll immediately go viral.

11.00am Call client. Explain why large overage on already eye-watering production invoice is bargain of decade. Suggest he issue bonus instead of threatening litigation.

1.00pm Troops assemble restlessly in reception. Loud cheer as identity of new creative director is revealed. JWT Geordie quota has doubled overnight.

1.30pm Microwave soup, and wash it down with modest dessert filched from secret Nestle team cupboard.

1.45pm Powerplate session. Explain to instructor I am on strict soup diet. We agree I must have thyroid problem.

2.30pm Interview would-be senior planner, and find his total disinterest in all things creative puzzling.

4.00pm Realise, with chief financial officer's help, "interviewee" was potential IT supplier.

4.15pm Review Smirnoff cut. Make several useful suggestions to creative team, whose open-mouthed silence I take to be awe. Am cooking with gas.

4.30pm Review past pitches with new-business director and feel fresh wave of fury at failing to win McCain.

6.45pm Meet husband and daughter for frugal sushi dinner - £2 a dish.

7.45pm 100 quid's worth of raw fish later, daughter bursts into chorus of Chips, Glorious Chips! Is she trying to hurt me? Decide to dig out number of reasonably priced child psychologist.

10.30pm Shake plaster dust off already fairly undesirable pyjamas, and set alarm.

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