Name: Kate Robertson
Job: Executive vice-president, Euro RSCG Europe
Professional mission: Grow the Euro RSCG Group
Personal mantra: Integrity. Ultimately, I have to face myself
5.30am I always wake at first light. Even if I'm tired, this is my favourite time of day. This morning I'd really like to go to Battersea Flower Market, but I get up and vacuum the stair carpets. Some colleagues are prosumers of cars and gadgets. Me, I'm a prosumer of vacuum cleaners. I've got four: two Mieles, one LG and an old Vorwerk. Sad.
6.30am Stream of e-mails overnight from David Jones, our global boss, who's in New York - I think that's where he is. Whatever - he's on top of everything, including a dozen things I'd have forgotten and, as usual, I'm having to race to keep up.
7.30am Leave early and forget I'm going to our agency in Clerkenwell and not to WC1. Wrong turn into Goodge Street; diversion at Whitfield Street. I meet Terry Hunt, the chairman of our EHS Brann group, for breakfast. He helps me hatch plots for growing the group.
8.30am Review of creative business idea for one of our Reckitt Benckiser brands. I think it's brilliant and want to run off to Slough with it immediately. The team look annoyed and I know it's theirs and they get to present it and show off.
12.30pm Lunch with Martin Jones. We've known each other since Berkeley Square JWT in the late 80s. He says he can't believe how blind some agencies can be when it comes to reading how prospects are reacting to a presentation. I hope to hell he doesn't mean any of our group and resolve to try and remember. Awful thought - maybe all prospects think all agency people are a bunch of jerks?
2.00pm The two-hour drive to clients in Coventry seems to take forever but the banter is fun and the troops are in good heart. Problem is, these meetings have to coincide with colleagues in New York and San Francisco, so they always finish late. Tonight it's 7.30pm before we leave. Some days are stones.
9.30pm Make it home to beloved husband. His film is going really well and he's happy and even recorded Desperate Housewives for me. Enjoy, and then stagger upstairs with my cat - who is the person I most want to be. His litter brother, called Chilli, died of cancer and this chap got left behind with a stupid name, Con Carne. He's a blessing and I count the others. An ordinary and somehow marvellous day.