CEO of My Refrigerator

I’m not good at corporate finances. My husband explains spreadsheets to me using his “Nordstrom Postulate,” which is much silliness about what you’re really paying when you buy a dress on sale and use your credit card.

I know he hasn’t measured the side benefits, such as image enhancement (how hot I think I look in the dress); how his ‘bottom line’ (sex life) might improve if he comments on how nice I look in the dress; the increased awareness and market share of potential admiring looks from other men; or the overall market value of comments like “That’s a great dress! Have you lost weight?”

At one time, I was working for a corporation whose financial worth was sinking faster than a mob snitch wearing cement shoes. As I sat through a series of endless meetings led by bean counters, I was having a difficult time grasping how in hell we got to that point.  Then, I had an epiphany: Running a company is much like managing my household’s refrigerator.

As CEO of my refrigerator, it’s my job to manage its contents. If at the end of each week my refrigerator is pretty bare, then I’ve done my job and invested my money well. If I’m throwing away a lot of uneaten or spoiled food, then I’ve wasted good money that could have been better spent on, say, a great pair of Christian Louboutins. 

Like any corporation, most of my departments perform pretty well; My dairy, chips and dessert departments, in particular. The dairy department, consisting of eggs, milk, cheese and butter, are outstanding performers, capable of multi-tasking, as they can be made into breakfast, lunch or dinner. The chips and dessert departments have also been able to cover for breakfast, lunch or dinner but it’s not recommended and don’t judge me.

My refrigerator also has specialists and consultants, most of which are in my condiment section. Mayonnaise and mustard I keep on permanent retainer. The little jar of capers was great on salmon a few weeks ago but isn’t doing much for me these days. Same for the raspberry amaretto jam purchased from a farmers’ market in a quaint town while on vacation. There’s only so much toast and ice cream I can eat before my colon lights up.

Once, one of my VPs of Sales (my 6-year old daughter, at the time) recommended applesauce. So, I bought it. She hasn’t eaten the applesauce. Ever. Clearly, I should have done a little more focus group testing before that applesauce landed in my refrigerator.

My husband is always trying to sneak in some new fad food. One month, the market trend revolved around the Mediterranean diet. Those food items did not perform well since only my husband’s psychographic segment would eat them; There was no consumer demand from the rest of the family.

Occasionally, I’d open the refrigerator and be confronted by a bunch of take-out containers. This meant I’d lost control and brought in a bunch of consultants who performed once and then hung around way past their expiration dates. Like most consultants, they hit their peak once and never peaked again. 

So, here’s my point: If you’re going to run a corporation efficiently, run it like your refrigerator. Hire the eggs, milk, butter and cheese. Bring in the Chinese take-out only when you really need it. If you’re going to bring in a consultant (like capers), don’t keep them hanging around taking up space; have them give it their all on that one project. Avoid food fads unless enough of your market segment is going to eat them. And for gosh sakes when something stops performing get rid of it! It’s not as if the yogurt that’s gone way past its expiration date is going to miraculously turn into something REALLY useful like, say, chocolate ice cream.

And if any member of my family stands in front of the open refrigerator and says “There’s nothing to eat”, as CEO I can tell them to go scramble some eggs.