Nancy awoke the next morning drenched in sweat. She'd had a dream, and it replayed in her mind like a scary movie. She was back in high school at a track meet. Her race was about to start and she couldn't find her running shoes. She searched frantically for them, then noticed she couldn't find her running shorts, either. She heard laughter, and both panic and fear consumed her. Hurry, hurry, hurry, she told herself as she raced around the locker room looking for her shoes and shorts. The race was about to begin, and she wasn't ready.
What a crazy dream, she thought to herself as she hopped out of bed. Here she was, a grown woman with children of her own in high school, and this was what she was dreaming about. It reminded her of a dream she'd had a few months earlier, in which she'd been back in college and had had to take a final exam on a subject she didn't know anything about.
"Are you okay?" her husband asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a nightmare," she said as she walked out of the room toward the kitchen.
As she made the coffee, it occurred to her that perhaps it was more than just a nightmare. Perhaps it was a way to release her anxiety about the future of her company. She certainly didn't feel prepared to take on Soup, Inc.'s challenges. And, after reading Peter's paper, she knew she hadn't made the right initial decisions. Instead of focusing on culture, she had focused relentlessly on the numbers. She was obsessed with numbers, numbers, numbers. Her approach ...