Close-Up: 24 hours with ... Steve Henry, TBWA\London

Name: Steve Henry
Job: Executive creative director, TBWA\London
Professional mission: Make profits rain down from the sky
Personal mantra: Feel the fear, then make an excuse

6.00am Go to toilet.

6.10am Get out of bed.

6.11am Realise should have done first two things in different order.

6.15am Would normally run twice round Hyde Park but I'm feeling lazy so do tai-chi instead. It's easy, really - you just pretend you're walking very slowly with bad piles.

6.45am Breakfast in car served by my personal pastry chef, Adolfe. He's having a bad day because the wheat-free croissants are burned. Punish him by sticking his penis in the toaster. That's my personal toaster, Bernarrrrrde, who shouldn't be in the fucking car anyway.

7.03am Arrive at office where my PA Angelique gives me some high-fibre muesli and colonic irrigation. Regret decision to make whole office open plan.

10.00am Brunch meeting with my favourite client. We massage each other's egos, then each other's shoulders, then the bit at the top of the legs. Ooooh, lovely. I can't remember the name of the account, but the client really knows how to tick all my boxes. Not to mention, tickle my boxers.

11.00am Off to Number 10 for top-level debriefing. Do Number 2s.

11.30am Ask my PA to remind me to ring my daughters at tea-time. Am later surprised to see entry in my desk diary that reads: "Call girls at 4pm." Surely we could do better on the wording there.

1.00pm Lunch at The Ivy. Tell a group of friends a story about a drunken dry-skiing incident in Abu Dhabi. Topped by Dickie Attenborough, who tells a funnier story about a coked-up dry-cleaning accident in Hemel Hempstead. I hate that man.

4.00pm Call girls arrive at agency, but I'm still out at lunch. Tell PA to sign for waiting time.

4.30pm Drop into the "Rhino" for a quick one. Peter S and Robin W are giving each other free lap dances.

5.30pm Get down to work. Look at brief for client who is facing huge problems with competition online. Solve the problem in one snappy line. "Don't Google it. Wandsworth Arndale Shopping Centre it." Accept congratulations from everyone.

5.31pm Car to Annabel's. Dance till my trousers fall off. Manage to get chucked out for sticking a fork into Princess Michael's left buttock. I thought it was a Scotch egg.

12.00pm Go to bed.

12.01am Go to toilet.

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