This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Bridget Griswold, the 25-year-old CEO of Lean In, who lives in San Francisco. It's been edited for length and clarity.

I fell in love with technology at Brown University, where I studied computer science and business. I worked with two female professors to build a robot. I interned at a semiconductor manufacturing company and also loved design and art.

Product management felt like a really wonderful combination of all those interests, and that was my role at Meta a year after graduating from college. My team and I redesigned the Instagram search grid, so now when you search for large Instagram accounts, you're routed to the search results page rather than directly to those accounts. I'm very proud of that.

While at Meta, an incredible female mentor connected me to Sheryl Sandberg. Meeting her felt so surreal and is what led me to start my role as CEO at Lean In in March. It feels like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to do mission-driven work.

I was a swimmer as a kid, and as my swim coach used to say: "You get out of swimming what you put into it." I think that applies to many things in life: The more you put in, the more you get out.

Here's a day in my life.

I wake up to my needy, angelic cat around 7:30 a.m.

The second I wake up, I pet my crying and whining cat. She's an angel but very needy.

I'm not a breakfast person, but I need coffee immediately. I have many cups of coffee throughout the day. One of the first things I do is make some at home.

I always tidy up my apartment while brushing my teeth

The most productive two minutes of my day are when I brush my teeth. I clean and tidy my apartment at the same time.

I'm probably not super focused on brushing my teeth, which is maybe a problem, but I'm also making my bed, emptying the dishwasher, feeding my cat, or starting the coffee maker.

I always move really quickly; I don't like to sit still. Brushing my teeth and standing still would make me antsy, so I like to get something else done at the same time.

I'm still adjusting to West Coast hours

I moved from New York City to San Francisco in August.

In New York, I went to Solidcore classes before work every day. Working on the West Coast, the workday starts earlier than on the East Coast, so I'm still learning whether I like to work out in the morning or after work.

When I take the bus to the office three days a week, I often use that time to catch up on personal housekeeping tasks like scheduling appointments or texting back my friends who live on the East Coast.

I come to the office around 8 a.m. or 8:30 a.m.

A majority of my in-person time is spent in meetings. As CEO, I enjoy being involved in all aspects of the team.

I'll meet with our content and research team — we spend a lot of time digging into data, such as some really exciting new research on trad wives in the manosphere. I also often meet with our product and tech team, as well as many of our partners, to help grow our programs.

We have lunch in the office — my favorite is a salad-plus-smoothie combo — and it's a really wonderful time to connect with the team.

I also love connecting with our Lean In community. One thing we're focused on is closing early gender gaps in AI usage. Our flagship program, Circles, consists of groups of 8 to 12 women who meet regularly to support each other in their careers — we have over 170,000 members. It's a perfect forum to hold each other accountable for upskilling in AI.

Every week, I send AI tips to our network leaders. A recent one encouraged the use of AI notetakers, as women are more likely to take notes during meetings and miss out on participating.

Lean In is in over 180 countries, and it's really heartwarming to see that our commitment to our mission has a positive impact on women's careers. Getting to speak with them is really energizing and rewarding.

I rehearse for meetings by talking to myself on walks

Another habit of mine I've been told is weird is how I prepare for big meetings.

If I have a presentation or interview coming up, I'll set up a Zoom and practice speaking to myself. Talking for a long time is sort of an unnatural act, and the first time you do it is probably not going to be your best.

Sometimes, I'll even go on a walk and wear headphones, pretending like I'm in a meeting or on a phone call, but I'm actually talking to myself and practicing.

When there's a bug, I usually fix the code myself

Because of my background in computer science, I spend a lot of my time finding bugs or things I believe we should change on our platform. I'll code and fix those on my own. Thankfully, with AI, it's so much faster to code now than it was a few years ago.

Our team is busy, and my goal is to enable everyone to have as much impact and move as quickly as possible. If I can help unblock the tech team or resolve an issue rather than add it to their plate, I'm always more than happy to do so.

I leave work around 6 p.m.

I continue to work until I go to bed pretty much every night.

It's nice to have that time at home, when I'm not running around between meetings, to focus, give feedback on documents the team has sent, write, respond to emails, and brainstorm my own ideas.

I take breaks to tidy up my apartment and make dinner. Living in New York got me out of the habit of cooking, so I'm taking the initiative to cook more meals, like rice bowls. I would say about half the time I order takeout, like pho, and the other half I cook, which is progress for me.

If my work doesn't require intense focus, I'll do it from the couch and put a happy TV show on, which right now is "Schitt's Creek." I think it's a nice balance between relaxation and getting things done.

I usually get in bed around 10:30 p.m.

I've been trying to make a habit of reading every night instead of going on my phone, which has been a really positive change. I like anything I read to be a distraction. I'm currently reading "Big Little Lies" and enjoying it.

It's nice to spend 30 minutes reading something like fantasy that's completely different from what I think about at work. That way, I'm not spinning on all the things I need to do or coming up with new ideas that can't get done in my sleep anyway.

Weekends are for the beach and farmers market

My boyfriend works in Los Angeles and flies up to San Francisco every weekend. We've made a tradition of going to the Fort Mason Farmers Market on Sundays for fresh produce to cook an at-home meal that night.

I also enjoy seeing friends over the weekend. My preference is to go on a long walk or go to the beach. I also enjoy fitting in some work — emails, deep-focus work, or reading — throughout the weekend.

• Rebecca Mac traveled from Manchester, UK, to Paris for a Céline Dion concert in memory of her late mother.
• She said she was caught in traffic near Galeries Lafayette as unrest spread through the city.
• Mac said hotel staff warned her against going outside, saying she was a "perfect candidate" to get mugged.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Rebecca Mac, who owns Cosmetic Finance Group, a Manchester, UK-based aesthetics finance company, and Mc Aesthetics, a cosmetic clinic group. It has been edited for length and clarity.

On Saturday, 110 demonstrations drew 550,000 people nationwide, according to Interior Minister Laurent Nuñez, including 110,000 in Paris. Organizers put the national total at 800,000.

I went to Paris to see Céline Dion in memory of my mom.

My mom had loved Céline for years. We had tickets to see her before the pandemic in Manchester before she died, but the show was canceled. She never got to see her perform.

Friday's concert was really emotional. "All Coming Back to Me Now" and "I'm Alive" made me emotional, but "My Heart Will Go On" was the one that really made me cry.

Seeing Céline felt like I was finally doing it for my mom. Little did I know, less than 24 hours later, my friend and I would be trapped in an Uber during the Paris riots.

We had no way of getting out

At about 3:30 p.m. on Saturday, we left Galeries Lafayette and saw what felt like a sea of people marching toward us. We were like: "Oh my god. This is crazy." We walked away and got an Uber outside Sephora.

Every road the driver tried was closed. He told us to get out, but young men were running past the car, throwing things and banging. We said: "No, we're not getting out of the car in the middle of this."

Then people threw metal barriers into the road so cars could not pass. We were stuck there, panicking. Within seconds, police with riot shields charged in from the other side.

We thought the crowd was coming toward us and that we were trapped in the middle. The taxi stood still for a few minutes. It felt like we had no way of getting out.

The police formed a line in front of the car and cleared the barriers so traffic could move. It took about 20 minutes to get back to Le Damantin Hôtel & Spa, near the Champs-Élysées, where we were staying.

Roads were sectioned off, and police on motorbikes and police vans with sirens kept passing us as we drove away.

It was very stressful. It just felt very surreal and very long. We were just relieved to be back at the hotel and safe.

'Perfect targets to be mugged'

Later that night, hotel staff locked the doors as we were leaving for dinner.

Men in balaclavas were passing outside. A staff member told us: "You cannot go out," and said we looked like "perfect targets to be mugged."

After waiting for about an hour, we decided to take a taxi to the restaurant, which was just around the corner.

But it stopped across the road, where another group of six masked men was standing outside. It was quite intimidating, so we walked around parked cars to avoid getting too close to them.

I wanted to get home

My Sunday flight to Manchester was delayed, so I booked a 9 a.m. flight to London and then an Uber home to Manchester.

I kept thinking about my children. We had been to Paris a couple of years earlier for Disneyland with my little girl, my niece, and my nephew. I thought: Imagine if this had happened then.

I'm so grateful I saw Céline on Friday. It is a memory I will remember forever. But I'm very upset and disappointed because I do like to go to Paris quite a lot.

The whole experience made me lose my love for Paris a bit.

Additional reporting by Amanda Goh.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Jeff Kinney, the 55-year-old author of the "Diary of a Wimpy Kid" series, who lives in Plainville, Massachusetts. It has been edited for length and clarity.

Every year, when a new "Diary of a Wimpy Kid" book hits the shelves, I'm surprised that kids keep showing up.

I started writing the first book in 1998, while working as a computer programmer and game designer. I wanted to be a newspaper cartoonist, but that didn't work out, so I set out to get my cartoons published somehow. I was inspired by my own childhood experiences.

The first generation of kids who read my books is now almost 30 years old. It's wild to me that there's a new generation of kids encountering these books and finding them fresh.

As an author, I work within a few different spheres: books, my bookstore, movies, and development. I hop from one area to another.

Here's a day in my life.

I wake up before 7 a.m.

I don't set an alarm, so I wake up at that time naturally every day. I stay in bed for a while because after an ankle injury, I have some PT to do, like ankle stretches, while I'm in bed.

I meditate for about 10 minutes, set my intentions for the day, and organize my digital to-do list before I get out of bed.

I do two hours of exercise before breakfast

Right after I get up, I do about two hours of PT yoga, then weightlifting. I do that before I eat breakfast, which is often eggs and sausages.

I'm really committed to my morning physical routine of PT, PT yoga, and exercise. That's now become non-negotiable. I also do some journaling because it orients me toward the day, and it's a calming mechanism.

I've just had my most productive year, during which I wrote two books and two screenplays, so I attribute that to my morning routine. It grounds me.

I stay organized with a habit tracker

I've tried a million different to-do list apps that didn't work, including the pomodoro method and all sorts of others. Then I found a digital habit tracker.

I'm pretty diligent about checking off my daily habits. These include eating enough fiber, drinking enough water, waking up by a certain time, meditating, and doing stretches and yoga.

My workday starts at around 9:30 a.m.

I have about five or six workspaces, and I like to balance between them. One is a really colorful studio with my whole staff on the top floor of my bookstore, which is about three miles away from my home. When I'm not touring or working on a script, I go into the bookstore.

The bookstore is always top of mind for me, though the day-to-day operations are handled by the staff. Every so often, I'll get involved because we'll have a big author that comes to the store, and I'll interview them.

Another is my guest house, where I sit in the quiet living room. I also have a dark room in the basement where I'll go if I need to shut out everything. The other one is sitting in my car at the cemetery, where it's also very quiet. I can't listen to music because it occupies the same part of my brain needed for creating.

Sometimes I write for 8 to 12 hours a day

I feel most creative in the early morning hours, but sometimes I might write for eight to 12 hours a day.

If I'm illustrating, which I basically do all summer, I'll draw from maybe 9 a.m. until about 9 or 10 p.m. every day for months.

When I'm working on a book, I'll write the jokes first, then the manuscript, and finally I'll illustrate. I do all the illustrations myself. I don't usually combine those activities together.

I'm always stuck creatively, so I use a system

When I get stuck, I use something called systematic creative thinking, which helps me to produce material even if I'm not feeling creative.

I start with the components. If I'm writing about an airplane, I'll list the parts of the plane inside and out: the wings, the pilots, the lavatory, everything. Then I'll go through each component with a few different tools like subtraction and multiplication, and that's what gives me my raw material.

I'll use my iPad or my computer, or I have this device called a Freewrite, which is a super simple word processor that's not connected to the internet.

I don't stop for lunch

I only eat two meals a day, so I don't really step away for lunch — this is how I roll.

I do have an energy drink, but it's more of a habit than a need. I also don't typically take breaks.

I don't have many work boundaries

A good day is when I can get my to-do list to under 200 items, which is really hard to do. When I'm not illustrating, my wife might say, "Hey, let's have dinner," and that's my backstop for when I stop working.

Work is always on my mind, and I really don't have any boundaries. I don't tell people when I'm going on vacation because they'll reach me anyway, and I don't want to stop them from making progress. I usually make myself available, even if I'm away.

My team mostly communicates with me by text

Texting is how my team communicates with me. Email has become less useful for me because I get so many emails in a day that I feel like I'm a hockey goalie, and pucks keep whizzing past me.

I can really only answer emails right when I get them. Once they get too far down my list, I'll forget about them. I have a lot of challenges with executive functioning. I really struggle with having a lot of choices.

I've always answered my own emails, and I don't use AI to write.

I'm not often bored; I need stimulation

I don't play a lot. I sometimes go to Celtics games, or I'll go out to dinner with my wife, my friends, or my kids. I'm not often bored.

In fact, I feel very understimulated. I often feel like I'm not getting enough information, or there's not enough that's happening. For example, if I were to drive through the McDonald's drive-thru and get my food, I'd turn on the radio, tune in to some news program, and eat while reading the news on my phone.

Chicken McNuggets with sweet and sour sauce are probably my guilty pleasure. As far as watching TV goes, Survivor is always a staple in our house.

I go to sleep around 9:45 p.m.

These days I go to bed pretty early. I get in bed around 9:45 p.m., put in an earbud, and fall asleep with the news in my ear.

• Kathy Davidson, 61, is raising her two grandsons, ages 8 and 11, in North Carolina.
• She receives $997 a month in disability benefits, while her husband works as an electrician.
• She works hard to give both grandchildren a stable, loving home despite financial strain.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Kathy Davidson, 61, who has raised two of her grandsons in North Carolina since they were born. This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

I raised three children, two girls and a boy. My son and older daughter have been doing well and are working hard. I left my ex, and then I met the man I'm married to now. We've been married for 26 years.

I worked in construction and hotel housekeeping. You name it, I've done it. I used to work with my uncle laying bricks and painting houses. I hurt my back and shoulder at work one day in 2015, and now I'm on disability. I've been on a limited income since, earning $997 a month, and it's been very hard.

My husband works as an electrician, and he's 66. He earns $18 an hour, which works out to about $615 a week after taxes.

I have custody of my 2 grandsons

My younger daughter was born three months early. She got into modeling, and at a competition with 4,000 women, she came in the top 10. She was doing well until my husband lost his daughter to cancer. She left my house by the time she was 18.

She had two boys, who are 11 and 8, and they were both born with medical issues. I started taking care of the older boy when he was 5 months old. He was found in unsafe conditions and wasn't healthy at all. His mom went to jail and wrote out a paper saying that she gave me custody and had it notarized, but it took forever because she was still reluctant to give him up. At 3, the court decided to give me custody of him. I got the younger one straight out of the hospital.

When I finally got custody, the judge decided that their mom would have no visitation.

We didn't even think about foster care when we got them. My husband decided that we would take them in because he raised two of his kids by himself. He helped me raise my soul.

We can't do whatever we want anymore

We used to go wherever we wanted to, and now we can't. We look for things that we can do without breaking the budget. We have taken the boys hiking and camping, the stuff that I grew up doing, and they love it. Their grandpa has definitely spoiled them in whatever way he can.

We didn't get child support until six months ago, and we get $236 a month now for each boy through the state. It's not much, but it helps pay for a few things that they need, and we set aside some of it in their savings accounts for college. My parents and my aunt would help me out with birthdays and holidays. My mom gives each of them $20 a month, and I don't let them spend it. They put it in their piggy banks.

We pay $1,050 a month in rent, and the power is included, but it took everything to come up with that amount. I would do some housekeeping for a friend's mom to make extra money to buy clothes, and the church we go to has a clothing bank. One of their mom's past boyfriends is still around and will help the boys out and spend time with them.

I've tried to raise them as well as I can. I told them that, first of all, you do not lie. I put this into their head. I put them in timeout and take their phones a lot. My husband is a lot more lenient on them, but I've decided to be tougher. It's important to discipline them while they're young. I've also encouraged them to work for everything they want.

I've also learned to listen to them. The boys will sometimes stand their ground, but other times they'll tell on themselves. It's important to work with them and hear them out.

I'm very proud of my grandchildren

I'm very proud of the boys, and they know it. They both are on the autism spectrum, and the older one has Tourette's and ADHD. Both made it onto the honor roll. The older one is getting ready for middle school and gets some extra help at school. He's very quiet, and it took him until last year to start making friends. I am scared of what will happen when he gets to middle school.

It took some time for him to get more confident. He believes he isn't smart because kids in his class say so. I told him he's capable of going to college and having a future. I need him to believe that he can do whatever he wants, but he has to really want to do it. He has a journal where he writes down what he wants to do and the steps he has to take to get there.

My husband and I try to set aside as much as possible to get them what they want, like gaming systems, even though they know it's hard for us. We don't lie to them about our finances. We know the boys make sacrifices, and they shouldn't have to. They should be able to be children.

It's just as hard on the grandkids as on the grandparents. They feel their parents don't love them. They go through a lot of emotions.

• Lauren Antonoff is the CEO of Life360 and uses the location-sharing platform with her family.
• She says she tried to mimic her mom's somewhat hands-off parenting with her own two kids.
• Giving kids space can help them develop agency and independence, she says.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Lauren Antonoff, CEO of Life360. It has been edited for length and clarity.

My mother was an awesome parent, but she was a person first. It was just the two of us for a lot of my childhood, between the time my dad died when I was 8, and my mom remarried when I was 14.

During those years, my mom was parenting while also in school, working, and dating. She was always there for me, but she wasn't trying to manage my childhood. She didn't do homework with me, for example. She made sure I was happy, loved, and well cared for, all while living her own life.

A lot of single moms might not have been open about things like dating, but mine was always transparent. I liked that I got to do my thing while watching my mom do hers.

My mom's benign neglect helped me develop agency

I didn't grow up knowing I wanted to be a parent. When I met my now-husband, he was already a father. Our daughter, who is now 27, was 5 at the time. I say I got her the easy way.

From the beginning, my husband was the primary parent. That really opened the door for me to feel comfortable having kids. About three years later, we had our son.

Once I became a parent, my mom and I would sometimes talk about this idea of benign neglect — the benefits of letting kids do their own thing, and figure it out. In my childhood, my mom's benign neglect allowed me to develop independence and problem-solving skills.

Because my mom was less involved than some parents, I created a sense of agency that's served me well throughout life.

I wanted to change the world, but didn't expect to be in tech

My interest in tech was an accident. I thought I would become a civil rights lawyer and change the world.

While I was in college in the early 90s, I purchased a Mac to write papers with. I was living in Berkley, and got sucked into this community of Mac enthusiasts. I understood the technology — though not as well as some people — and I could articulate things well.

My techie friends diagnosed me as a product manager. I had a desire to advance technology that was both intelligible to humans and useful to them. I started working at a startup that was bought by Microsoft.

I thought it would only be for a few years, until I went to law school. I ended up spending 19 years at Microsoft before joining other tech companies like GoDaddy and now Life360. I realized along the way that I have an impact on people's quality of life, at scale, by advancing technology that makes day-to-day life easier.

Location monitoring keeps my in-person connections close

At Life360, we talk a lot about agency, which was so important in my childhood, and which I tried to encourage for my own kids. For me, and a lot of our users, the platform creates agency while helping people boost their real-life connections.

Here's my favorite use case: my husband is still the primary domestic partner, and he brings me lunch most days. If I'm at work feeling hungry, I can check his location and see if I need to get myself a snack, or if he's around the corner with my meal.

Recently, I got a flight notification from Life360. It showed that my brother — who doesn't live locally — had touched down in LA. I hadn't known he was in town, but since I got the digital signal, we were able to get dinner. Ultimately, the platform keeps us closer in real life by creating those opportunities for connection.

I'm cautiously optimistic about the future

I've never seen tech as a bad thing. I had a TV in my room growing up, and a simple coding game that was so basic I had to retype the code each time I turned it on.

I was pretty liberal in how I let my own kids use technology. Looking back, I got my son — who's now 19 — a phone when he was probably too young. At the time, we wanted to play Pokémon Go as a family. I didn't think about how harmful some aspects of tech can be. I'm lucky that he turned out good despite that.

I'm cautiously optimistic about the future of technology. I'm also an activist. We get to shape what the future looks like, for our children and us — and there's a lot of power in that.

• Heidi Widmer is a 35-year-old who moved into an apartment building in Los Angeles in July.
• For the first two weeks, she heard a loud sound from the apartment above and was annoyed.
• She found out the noise was being made by her neighbor, who has Parkinson's.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Heidi Widmer. It has been edited for length and clarity.

In July, I moved into an apartment in Los Angeles, exhausted from a six-day drive across the country from New York. All I wanted to do was get into the apartment and sleep, and luckily, my bed had been delivered on the same day I arrived.

Trying to fall asleep at 2 a.m., all I could hear was a loud noise coming from the apartment upstairs. It sounded as if someone was bowling. Although I was tempted to shout for them to be quiet, I held my tongue — I was the new neighbor and didn't want to be difficult.

But the noise just didn't seem to stop. Whoever lived up there also never came downstairs. Who lives up there? I thought to myself.

I realized my neighbor had Parkinson's

Two weeks after moving in, I heard someone coming down the stairs and had to get a glimpse of who lived above me.

Peeking out of my door, I saw Carole for the first time, slowly making her way down the stairs, shaking badly from what was clearly Parkinson's, and trying to carry a bunch of bags full of recycling.

Just as I was about to open the door to see if she needed help, she dropped all the bags with only a couple of steps left. I burst out of my apartment to help her.

"Oh my gosh, thank you," she said in her sweet British accent. "Did you just move in? Am I too loud for you?"

In that moment, I felt totally and completely humbled.

Having grown up in the Catholic church, I was taught never to judge a book by its cover, and with Carole, I hadn't even seen the cover. I judged her simply by the noise she produced upstairs. How could I be so judgmental?

It turns out that sound had been Carole rolling a three-wheeled, broken chair across her floor to get to her mini fridge — the mini fridge social services had given her when her refrigerator broke. She had to hoist herself out of her broken chair to get down and access the mini fridge.

That was the noise.

I was determined to figure out what I could do to help

Two days after we met, I knocked on her door. She peeked through and nervously let me in. The conditions inside weren't great.

Although she can live independently, she just needs a little help. I later learned that she doesn't like accepting help from people, especially social services. The fact that she is frightened of the very people meant to help her breaks my heart.

That day, I took all of her trash out for her, reassuring her I wasn't judging her at all.

In the weeks and now months that have followed, I have been up to Carole's to help with the trash, cooking (she'd only been having microwave meals), cleaning, and contacting the landlord to get him to replace and repair items in the apartment. We've decorated her apartment, too.

I raised $80,000 to help her out

Together, we made her an Amazon wish list, and I shared it on social media so that people could order things she needs and have them delivered directly to her. People have been so generous, purchasing things like an expensive Buddhist "butsudan" that Carole didn't expect anyone to buy.

We set up a GoFundMe, which has raised about $80,000, and we plan to use the funds to have a stair lift installed for her. Any leftover money will be spent on in-home care as she continues to age and her Parkinson's Disease progresses.

I know I've been helpful to Carole in these last few months, but she's been the perfect person at the perfect time for me, too. Moving to LA, I had hardly any connections. Lots of Carole's family members are either no longer living or back in the UK (she moved here in her 20s as an au pair).

Carole became the family I haven't had, and I became hers. We text back and forth each day, and I see her most days. She calls me granddaughter, and I see her as my grandmother.

When I've had a hard day at work teaching at a local middle school, Carole is ready to give me a big hug when I get home. She's been my safe space, and I've been hers. The universe knew we needed each other.

It's an unlikely connection, but it shows that when you lead with kindness rather than judgment, the person you were ready to judge can become someone you can't imagine your life without.

• Andrew Koller owns property in Canada, but decided to buy a home in Japan after visiting.
• Koller spent $15,000 CAD on an akiya and spent months renovating it.
• He plans to visit on occasion and rent it out some of the time.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Andrew Koller, 31, a freelance camera operator who purchased a home in Yamagata, Japan, in March. Koller, who's based in Edmonton, Canada, renovated the home and plans to use it as a vacation home. The following has been edited for length and clarity.

Like a lot of millennials, I was exposed to Japanese culture in some sense early on with "Naruto," "Pokemon," and "Dragon Ball Z." After that, I don't think my interest really left.

Come 2020, I had a bunch of time on my hands like everybody else. It seemed like a good time to finally learn Japanese. I've been learning Japanese with a private tutor since then.

Then, in 2023, I made my first trip to Japan.

Like everybody else who comes back from their first trip to Japan, I just fell in love. I couldn't stop talking about it, but I wanted a deeper connection to the community.

I wanted more than just the superficial, surface-level experience of Japanese life. So I thought maybe a good way to get that experience would be to buy a house that's not in a major tourist city, somewhat live there, and spend a good chunk of time over there getting involved with the community by renovating a forgotten property.

The algorithm was watching for sure. After my first Japan trip, my YouTube and Instagram algorithms were suggesting to me all these similar people doing similar things.

From that, I was like, this seems like something I can do. In my free time, I like to DIY. I have a little workshop — I wouldn't say I'm good at it, but I feel like I know enough to do the basics.

I'm at the point in my life now where I've had all these ideas and I've said, "Oh, it'd be cool to do this," but I never do it. I never follow through. I just wanted to prove to myself that I actually followed through on one of these somewhat whimsical ideas.

The house I bought in Japan cost a fraction of what houses cost in Canada

I've always been interested in real estate since a young age.

Purchasing your first house is doable, but if you want to purchase a second house after that, like a rental, it's extremely challenging to do that in Canada. Canada's housing market has exploded, especially in Alberta.

I'm in a very fortunate position where my partner and I own a house and we own a rental property as well close to the university area.

I bought the rental house when I was 20 with my parents — they had to sign on because no bank was going to loan a 20-year-old kid a mortgage. I rented out the rooms and then I lived for free for my time in college.

Both houses have a similar value. My primary residence is worth just under $600,000 CAD (about $422,880). When we bought the rental 10 years ago, it was around $500,000 CAD, but it's gone up since.

For my home in Japan, I spent $15,000 CAD (about $10,600) on the purchase price plus closing costs, which was another $3,000 CAD.

I can definitely see myself spending extended time in Japan.

I want to go out there at least a few times a year. It's close to a pretty big ski resort, and I snowboard.

Doing the math for that, if I was to go stay in Banff or Jasper — one of the more popular mountain towns in Alberta — for a week and ski, it's actually cheaper to fly to Japan, because the skiing is also very affordable, so that was a big factor for me.

I would like to rent it out, but I don't plan on making a lot of money from it

I went to Japan in October 2025 to look at properties. I made an offer in November, it got accepted, and then I got possession of the property in March 2026. Then I went up for the entire month of April to start renovations on it.

I wanted to respect what was already there when I went in. Even though the house itself wasn't ancient or historical — it was built in the '60s or '70s — it was very traditionally built with the Tatami rooms. I wanted to keep a lot of that, coming in as a Westerner.

I wanted to try and adapt to their way of life rather than trying to impose my own. I just wanted to complement what was already there.

Now, the house is 98% done.

The actual renovation costs right now are just over the purchase cost. So I'm at around $18,000 CAD and change, doing most of it myself.

Right now, the goal would be to do a short-term rental in the future, but I don't plan on it making a lot of money.

I think that's the one thing people will get confused about. They think, "If I do this and renovate it, I can make a ton of money off a short-term rental in Japan." That's not the case, because there's so much competition with the hotels there that are already amazing and very affordable.

I just want to cover the maintenance costs more than anything. Doing a little bit of short-term rental, I think, will help with that.

It's not an asset. I think maybe people go to Japan with the Western mindset, like, "Oh, it's a buy-and-hold asset." Outside of Tokyo and the big cities, real estate doesn't do that.

Real estate always goes down in value over time. If you're buying a house in Japan, go in with the expectation that it's not as much of a financial asset as it is a recreation: you'll get more of a cultural experience.

• Melanie Dulbecco has been CEO of the syrup company Torani for 35 years.
• Dulbecco said layoffs are a choice, and that Torani's decision not to do them has helped with retention.
• She said that the company is hiring fewer people than it would be if Torani didn't use automation.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Melanie Dulbecco, the CEO of syrup brand Torani. She's based in San Leandro, California, where the company is headquartered. This story has been edited for length and clarity.

I may sound different than most CEOs.

I grew up in a blue-collar neighborhood, and my parents divorced when I was really young. When I was little, I saw my mom struggle so much, and I noticed that some kids around me didn't have the same opportunities.

I felt this sense of inequity, and that became a motivating and driving force for me. I tried working in politics, then nonprofits, and eventually went into business. I wanted to build an opportunity company. When I met the family from Torani, they liked that idea.

I was the ninth hire at Torani in 1991 and became the first CEO in 1995. We now have over 500 employees.

When I started, we made $700,000 a year in annual revenue. We've grown 20% a year on average, and this year, we plan to hit over $800 million in revenue.

But to us, growth is not a financial endeavor. The trailing indicator of success may be the financials, but we think our work together creates the momentum and value in the marketplace that drives our growth.

It's very easy for us to say layoffs are not our approach. I think layoffs are a choice. I get it if a company is going through bankruptcy and has to make extremely challenging choices. Otherwise, I think it's a financial exercise that doesn't consider how you're going to be resilient or regain momentum — because you do that with a team.

Our workers aren't concerned about being replaced by AI

Torani is currently hiring fewer people than it would be if the company didn't use automation. We use automation to deprioritize manual, rote jobs with limited career mobility. We also use AI for consumer and market research, sales forecasting, and demand planning.

However, our team doesn't get worried about things like AI because they trust that we will both automate and elevate the work, that we will never do anything that squashes opportunities for people, and that we are looking out for everybody's success.

We're often in hyper-growth mode, which means we need people to know how to work together. The ability to work together, to collaborate, to address challenges, to be resilient in tough times, is critical. This strategy has also helped with retention.

We were faced with a choice during the pandemic

We had been planning a move to our new location in San Leandro in March 2020. That happened to coincide with the stay-at-home order. It was one of those moments where, as a leader, you feel like you have to breathe into a paper bag.

We had borrowed a lot of money from the bank to build our new flavor factory. The loans were going to start coming due in April, so the executive team came together to look at what we needed to do to be OK.

Before we did that, though, we asked: What will make us proud when we get to the other side of this? We had a long discussion about it and decided that making it as one team — without any layoffs or furloughs — would make us proud.

So we we scaled back marketing and advertising expenses and paused all company travel. All departments had to review their budgets. They got scrappy to identify and eliminate non-essential costs.

During the early months of the pandemic, Torani prepared for a 50% decline in sales. Thankfully, there was only a 20% decline in April of 2020, and revenue was back up in May. We quickly pivoted to online retail and grocery to fill the gaps left by cafés and drink shops closing their doors. Torani ended 2020 with a 15% year-over-year revenue increase.

We moved to our new location in six months instead of six weeks, but we got there. We couldn't have done that if we laid off our team. We needed to come together at that moment.

• Jen Podany raised her three children in a busy Los Angeles neighborhood where traffic limited their independence.
• After moving to a small Arizona town, her kids can ride bikes and play with neighborhood friends.
• She says their new lifestyle reminds her of the freedom children had growing up in the 1980s.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Jen Podany, founder of Bluestone Sunshields. It has been edited for length and clarity.

Near the end of 2024, my family of five had once again escaped Los Angeles for the quiet we found 10 hours south in Snowflake, Arizona.

We'd been doing it for years, renting an Airbnb in Snowflake, a town of 6,000 in the middle of nowhere, switching off amid the miles of empty land.

It had started as a stopover on our way to visit my husband's family in New Mexico. We fell in love with the town, and from then on, we'd visit whenever we needed to get away from the busyness of LA.

In Snowflake, we felt like we could catch our breath. Our souls calmed each time we arrived and ached to stay each time we left.

We put an offer on a house

Back in LA, specifically Burbank, the five of us — my husband and our three children, whom we homeschooled — lived in a duplex made up of two connected apartments. We lived in one of them, which had two bedrooms and one bathroom. From the other apartment, my husband and I ran our two separate businesses.

The duplex was in a neighborhood near a busy street, and we had to be cautious about letting the kids go outside to play because of the cars. I was always holding someone's little hand when we were out, just in case. You could hear planes flying back and forth into Burbank Airport. As our kids and businesses grew, we felt increasingly confined.

Then we saw a house on the market in Snowflake, and I felt in my bones that we should put in an offer.

It was a four-bedroom house surrounded by land, chickens, cows, and a crazy turkey. We could buy it and have our own place to stay when visiting, rather than always renting an Airbnb.

We bought the house for about $500,000, and on our first visit to stay in it in January 2025, none of us wanted to go back to Burbank.

We knew then that we'd make Snowflake our home. And so we did.

We moved from Los Angeles to a town of 6,000 people

In so many ways, our life looks exactly like life in LA. Our routines have remained the same. Every morning, just like in LA, we start our day at a coffee shop. Except in Snowflake, there's only one place to go instead of 20 choices. We work, we homeschool, we eat our meals, and we go to sleep — just like we did in LA.

But by transplanting our lives to a quiet town, we all feel calmer and more peaceful.

Personally, my nervous system has regulated. In LA, I felt like the world was constantly coming at me, like I was being bombarded and reacting to everything around me. Here, I feel like I'm in the driver's seat, with a clear head.

Not only has it been good for my well-being, but it's also been good for my business. The move has given me the mental space to think bigger. It's led to greater creativity, paving the way for business growth.

My kids have an 80s childhood

My kids love Snowflake, too. I didn't have to convince them about the move.

They have the freedom to be out of the house without worrying about cars and crime. Just a bike ride away are other kids with whom they are often found playing.

I think kids grow up quickly in cities, and living here, I feel like my kids get to just be kids. It's like going back to being a kid in the '80s, and I love that for them.

The house is bigger, so we aren't living on top of each other, but they've also got endless outdoor space to explore.

Even though I lived in LA for 20 years, we never experienced friendship and community as we have in just over a year in Snowflake.

We can't leave the house without seeing someone who wants to stop and talk. Everyone here is on "mountain time" — slowing down. No one is rushing around, head down, looking at their phones, too hurried to have a conversation.

Everyone is present and friendly.

My husband and I still occasionally have to go to LA for work, and each time we come back home to Snowflake, I take a deep breath and know we made the right decision to relocate our family.

• Laura Massetti spent 15 years leading teams and saw Gen Z workers struggle with unwritten rules.
• Massetti said Gen Z workers need training on communication, judgment, and follow-through.
• As AI levels technical skills, Massetti said human skills can help early-career workers stand out.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Laura Massetti, founder of Real Work Ready, which helps early-career professionals develop workplace skills. Massetti has more than a decade of experience in the corporate world, leading sales and marketing teams. The essay has been edited for length and clarity.

I spent 15 years in the corporate world, leading sales and marketing teams. I loved mentoring early professionals, but I often found myself thinking: My goodness, I wish I could make this process go quicker.

I never only look at whether someone could do the work. It is more about whether they could communicate clearly, exercise good judgment, and follow through.

As a career coach for young workers, I know there are things that you, as an employee, get judged on that no one actually puts inside the rubric. We expect people to figure them out over time, but in reality, someone has to teach them.

Gen Z needs feedback in a workplace that expects people to figure things out

I don’t think that Gen Z is unready for work. I think no one has taught them what to do.

This generation grew up with a cellphone in their hands. They’d post something on Instagram and get 10 likes. They’re used to instant feedback: Tell me what I need to grow.

That’s not how the workplace is built. We have annual reviews. You learn through experience; you learn the hard way.

Young workers are digitally fluent, which makes this generation incredible for so many reasons. But growing up digitally, compounded by the pandemic, left gaps in opportunities to practice face-to-face interaction.

Now they’re entering workplaces with other generations, and those generations set the rules.

Meanwhile, AI is taking on tasks that used to help people develop. We learned shoulder to shoulder with someone. How are new hires supposed to learn if we’re outsourcing those opportunities?

You’re being judged on things no one puts in the rubric

There are areas you’re being judged on that no one actually puts inside the rubric, including communication and clarity, prioritization and judgment, your ability to follow through, professional presence and credibility, ownership and reliability, and organizational awareness.

It’s not just about how you communicate. When you enter the workplace, do you know how to get stuff done? How aware are you of the organization you operate in?

You need to understand when to use email, when to use Slack, and when to stop by someone’s office. You can’t walk in and assume you know the rules.

In one new-hire program at a company with about 100,000 employees, a manager told me that someone had pinged the CEO on Slack to request a skip-level meeting. Mind you, that would’ve been probably 10 skip levels.

Poor thing, he had no idea. No one had told him that wasn’t how you reached out to the CEO in that organization.

I’ve also seen people show up to meetings unprepared, without what they needed or knowing how to follow up.

Dressing appropriately is something I had to learn on my own. About six months into my job, I wore a full black business suit to a meeting in Miami. It absolutely did not match the environment. I was way too formal.

Match the client’s environment and match how they dress. The other day, I saw someone meeting their manager in a suit jacket over a basketball jersey and shorts, but wearing loafers. Your job is to show your manager that they can trust you to be professionally present and to deliver.

Managers have a responsibility here, too. When we say, “They’ve been here for two years, and they’re just not getting it,” we need to ask ourselves: What aren’t they getting? What am I judging them on that I haven’t clearly explained?

Practice the human skills that will set you apart

My company now offers a six-month program that combines online training with weekly role-playing of workplace scenarios.

We practice things like how to react when you receive feedback. The goal is to give people experiences they might otherwise wait years to encounter.

My advice to every fresh graduate and those entering the workforce is that, at a time when AI is making skill sets equalizers, you will need to define how you’ll be different.

Technical skills are still incredibly important. But how do you communicate, exercise judgment, execute an idea, and get people’s buy-in?

I’ve never made a hiring decision based on technical capability alone. It’s mostly about whether I can trust that person.

Knowing the ins and outs of coding is one thing. Being able to speak to a boardroom and convince people of an idea is another ability you can bring to an employer.

Those are the skills I believe will make all the difference.

• Kiley Pulley became Walmart's youngest US store manager at 21, starting as a cashier at 16.
• Her former store manager helped her through her succession plan and interviews.
• Pulley emphasizes learning daily and adapting for career growth.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Kiley Pulley, a 23-year-old Walmart store manager in Buckeye, Arizona. It has been edited for length and clarity.

In 2019, when I was 16 years old, I started working at Walmart as a part-time cashier. I wanted my own money, and figured, why not just get a job?

My sister and my mom were already working there, and it was also right down the street from my high school. It was easy for me to get out of school and walk to work.

Over the next few years, I moved through different roles, from cashier to stocker to online fulfillment. Then, when I turned 18, I became an academy trainer, and six months later, a digital team lead.

When I became a team lead in mid 2021, it hit me that I wanted to stay at Walmart full time and make it my actual career. At 19, I became an operations manager, and right before I turned 22, I became the youngest store manager at Walmart in the US.

People ask me, "How did you do it?" My answer is to show up and learn something new every day. Here are six things I've learned along the way.

I realized I could help people by hiring them

Originally, I wanted to start either my own nonprofit or my own business and help out the homeless population; then I realized that I could do all that through Walmart.

I could make a difference through the people that I hire and the impact that I have on my associates at the store.

When I became a team lead, I was making good money, and I also really liked it. I started actively working toward becoming a store manager. I got on succession plans and was on monthly calls with our market manager. When I became an operations manager, I led multiple projects in our market to get myself ready to become a store manager.

I'd also ask to cover for store managers when they'd take off work; that way I could gain additional experience that was needed to be promoted. I remember thinking, I'm going to be a store manager at 21. I'll be the youngest in the company.

I had to learn that my words carried more weight

As an associate, I was friends with everybody. I could joke around with everyone. When I became salaried, everything changed.

One of the biggest learning points for me has been the way I talk and how to engage with people from different cultures. Changing my tone and limiting the joking and playful attitude felt necessary as a leader in the building.

At the time, setting new boundaries for myself made me feel more confident in my new role and even now in my current role.

I was a little nervous when I first went into a salaried position. People said I might have issues managing those older than me, but I've never had problems with my team not respecting or listening to me.

I also made my social media profiles private. I think connecting on social media can make it harder to separate between being someone's manager and being their friend.

I had to learn how to delegate

Getting out of the "if I want it done the right way, I'll do it myself" mindset was a big learning. I realized not everyone's going to know everything that I know, and if I really want to delegate and get tasks done, I'm going to have to teach and train.

A big part of being an academy trainer and team lead is training your associates. Once you get to operations manager, you kind of have to step back and expect your team leads and academy trainers to do that same thing.

I had to learn that if I delegated, things could get done faster or more efficiently.

I had to learn to be a servant leader

When it comes to my associates, if they need something, whether that's ordering the supplies or putting in tickets for them, I want to do that. I want to advocate for them.

I know it makes them more productive, but they'll probably be happier coming to work, too.

Also, everyone likes the appreciation of, "Hey, thank you for doing this today," or "Thank you for going above and beyond on this."

I had to learn to have work-life balance

When I first became salaried, I was always on the clock. I stopped going to the gym, and I sacrificed some time with my fiancé and family. I'd stay at work and say, "They need me."

It was my fault; the team didn't need me that badly. Now, I'm doing better. When I get home, I'm not spending the whole day looking at metrics or constantly texting my team. I've gone back to the gym.

I learned to take a step back and trust my leaders to do what they need to do. I trust that they know what they're doing.

I think there's always going to be some event you could miss out on. That can be hard to juggle sometimes, but I'm lucky enough to have a fiancé who's also career-focused and driven, so we kind of use each other as motivation.

I realized I could build a career without giving up on school

I went to college for business and ended up dropping out when I got my salaried position. I told myself that I'd get back into college when I got my first store.

My old store manager was the one who promoted me through all of the hourly supervisor roles. She even prepped me for my first salaried role. She sat in the office reading interview questions with me. Every time I'd say the word, 'um,' she'd say, "Nope, restart."

She was constantly there for me, and even still having her as someone to go to has been great. My market manager has also known me since before I started promoting. Every time I think I'm too young to be in this room, he's always in my corner.

I'm now enrolled in Live Better U, a program where Walmart pays for certain bachelor's degrees. I'm getting some of my foundational courses, and then I plan to get my college degree.

Keep pushing to learn more

For teenagers starting out, I encourage them to do a good job and learn as much as they can.

Companies are constantly changing, especially with technology. It's important to adapt and not be comfortable with what you already know.

When I look at my future at Walmart, I told myself I'd get to market manager at 27 or 28 — that's my short-term goal. Then, long-term, my goal would be regional EVP.

One thing I always remind myself is that I worked hard to get to this life, so I can't be upset now that I have it. Maybe we don't have time to do all the fun things right now, but if we work hard through our 20s, thinking about where we might end up when we're 30 or 40 keeps me motivated.

• Felipe Rochi lost one of his jobs while his wife was pregnant with their first child.
• They decided to take the leap and grow their side hustle — a rental camcorder business — together.
• As new parents, the two of them split the tasks involved in running the business.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Rachel Calaj and Felipe Rochi, a married couple in their 30s. Together, they run a wedding camcorder rental business that they started as a side hustle. The following has been edited for length and clarity.

Rochi: I'm an SEO supervisor. I also had a second job in the SEO space, but I was terminated this summer, in early June.

Calaj: I've been a school psychologist, typically hired through an agency to work for a district on a contract basis.

We found out we were pregnant last December, and my contract ended in May. We were trying to think throughout that time what we would do next year.

Felipe lost his job before our baby shower

Calaj: As a first-time mom, I wanted to stay home with my child. We were trying to see if Felipe's two jobs would be enough for me to do so. Then, he got terminated the day before our baby shower. It was a very sad moment for us, but we still had a great time at the baby shower, even if it wasn't the best timing.

Rochi: Unexpectedly losing my job and her contract ending around that time impacted our income significantly.

Calaj: It changed everything for us; it was a turning point. We were in the middle of buying baby clothes and all the things that you need.

Rochi: I applied for a decent number of jobs. You never hear back from jobs fast enough. You're just waiting to see if you got it. My dad owns a cleaning business, so we considered asking him for work in the meantime. With a kid on the way, we were thinking about anything I could do.

Calaj: I reached out to the district that I worked for the previous year to see if I could do some flexible, part-time contract work. We were trying anything we could to have extra income at that point.

We turned an idea into a new income stream

Rochi: In April, I saw videos of somebody renting camcorders to people to record their weddings, and then editing the footage for them.

I immediately thought it was a really cool idea.

My brain started to spin. Before even telling Rachel, I created a website and a TikTok account for our business, Pass the Cam, and posted a few videos just to see if it could work. I've tried a lot of side hustles over the years, including starting a newsletter that sent people entry-level remote job postings and creating a product called DooBagz, a bag dog owners could clip on to hold a used poop bag. However, they didn't work out.

Calaj: With this camcorder side hustle, I could see real momentum behind it from the start. Felipe hit the ground running, and when our first order came in, I was so excited.

Our first orders gave us hope we could do this

Rochi: We were at T.J. Maxx one Friday night when somebody reached out and said their videographer canceled and she needed our camcorders the next weekend. I was like, "Oh snap, I have to ship this out ASAP."

I bought a Sony 4K camcorder and memory card from a camera store nearby for around $1,100, including the warranty, picked it up on Saturday, and bought a random box to ship it to her.

Because we didn't have the money to pay an editor right away, and we were trying to pay off the camcorder I'd just bought, I edited the footage she sent back, since I have a little bit of experience with editing. She loved it.

That first client was in May, before I lost my job. By the end of the month, we had gotten two more clients.

It gave me something to fall back on when my termination happened in June. I said, "Hey, I got a couple of clients out of this, so why not try this more?" I was still applying for jobs, though, because a second job felt more secure than betting on a side hustle.

Calaj: Of course, there was still some uncertainty. You always wonder whether something will take off or eventually fizzle out.

We've had nearly 100 clients since we started

Rochi: Our goal is to reach 100 clients by the end of 2026. We're nearly there, and we still have some months to go, so I think it's possible.

We've made over $50,000 in net volume since starting in May, about half of which was in September alone.

I see more camcorder rental businesses showing up compared to when we started, but with millions of weddings a year in the US, I believe there's room for everyone.

We try to price our packages slightly lower than our competitors, run almost monthly promos, and include everything without charging for add-ons.

We actually dropped the prices for our two most expensive packages in order to stay competitive. Our packages are $429 for our starter package, $699 for the core package, and $899 for our deluxe package. They differ in terms of the type and number of camcorders, the length of edited video, and additional attachments like microphones and lights.

Calaj: I handle the operations side, like managing bookings, handling shipping logistics, ordering packaging, hunting down the best deals on boxes and stickers, and growing our camcorder inventory. The cameras are probably the biggest expense that we have at this moment, but it's been worth it so far.

My husband leads marketing and is the main point of contact for every couple we work with. He takes care of the camcorders themselves, making sure each one is working properly and set up with the right settings before it ships. He also works with our editors and reviews their work, so everything we send out is top quality.

On top of that, he manages our finances, making sure we're smart about what we earn and how much we reinvest back into the business.

Rochi: Sometimes overbooking happens, or we don't have enough inventory. I think that's all part of learning a new business.

We wish we'd had something like this at our wedding

Rochi: Some might disagree with our ways, but we know how expensive weddings already are.

Calaj: When we got married about four years ago, we did more of an elopement-style wedding with our close friends and family because we were starting off in our careers. We had disposable cameras; we still have those pictures around our house.

To hear that wedding videos can now cost thousands of dollars — it's just an insane amount.

We both said that if camcorder rentals were around when we got married, it would be a really cool thing to do. It's really sweet looking at the videos; it just feels very homey.

Rochi: The coolest part is hearing back from the couples over text or in reviews.

We became new parents in August

Calaj: It's definitely been hard to be new parents, but we love it.

Rochi: I always told her my goal: "I want you to stay home and be with our kids." I've stopped looking for a second job. The way the business is going now, and if I keep my full-time SEO job and the growth of our camcorder business keeps going, she won't have to go back to work.

Calaj: It's been really promising so far. At the moment, I have no plans of going back. Once my baby got here, I was like, "Yeah, I cannot imagine going back in six weeks."

It's really special to spend our time building something that's ours.

Rochi: There's no better feeling than knowing we trusted each other enough to take the leap. We lost an income, had a baby on the way, and had no idea what was ahead, but we believed this could work. Seeing it actually work has been incredible.

• Hardik Jagda wants to function like an Olympian, and waking up at 3 a.m. helps him do that.
• He commits long hours to his AI-based company, but says he doesn't enforce 996 hours on his team.
• For Jagda, 996 misses the point. Here's how he structures his day instead.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Hardik Jagda, 35, the CEO of Proximity Works, who lives in San Francisco. The following has been edited for length and clarity.

In 2017, I wanted to build my own company, but I couldn't jump into it full-time because of my financial obligations at home.

Instead, I'd spend the mornings and evenings outside my full-time job working on my side projects. That time was foundational for building my company, Proxmity Works, which I launched in 2019. My aim was to help broadcasters scale their live sports streaming platforms worldwide. In 2020, we started building AI infrastructure for live sports.

Those years made me aware of how my body clock works. I read a lot of autobiographies from entrepreneurs and athletes to understand what allowed them to build what they achieved. I noticed athletes would talk about starting their day early to train and work, in time for rest and recovery throughout the day. I started modeling my days after this, waking up early so I could have four to five hours to build my company before work started. I still stick to this lifestyle now that I'm a full-time founder and CEO.

I want to structure my day to function like an Olympian

In the early stages of Proximity, I performed pretty much every role in the company. Today, I have a team of roughly 45 people, five in the US and the rest spread out globally. My cofounder is based in India.

After 7 a.m., my time isn't mine anymore because I have requests coming in from employees in different time zones.

I like to start the day early, so I'm protecting the first three hours as time for myself. I usually wake up between 3 a.m. and 5 a.m. Between 3 and 6 a.m., I don't touch my emails or look at messages.

I use these early hours to focus on strategic decisions. There was one point, roughly two years ago, when we had to interview a lot of engineers quickly for a new project. I sat down with my talent acquisition team and found a way to redesign our recruitment workflow to take place within 72 hours. That wouldn't have been possible if I didn't give myself the three-hour morning block.

In the mornings, I work out and write my goals down. These are usually measurable and trackable goals for my company, as well as goals for myself and my fitness.

Most of my team calls don't start before 7:30 or 8 a.m. I usually take my first couple of meetings at home before driving to the office. During the day, I try to minimize Zoom calls and take meetings as audio calls so I can move around during them. I try to wrap up my meetings by 2:30 p.m., work out at 3 p.m., and then focus on more creative tasks, like speech-writing, after that. I spend my evenings with loved ones before going to bed around 9 p.m. and trying to get seven hours of sleep.

It's not like I start my day at 4 a.m. and just work through the next 12 hours. I build in slots for "recovery" throughout the day. On my calendar, I put in 15-minute slots before important meetings, where I remind myself of my goal for the call.

For the most part, I work six days a week, spending my Saturdays focusing on a key skill I want to develop, like public speaking.

'996' misses the point. I don't run my team with this schedule in mind.

For the most part, I work six days a week.

I work more than 40 hours a week, but I don't keep track of the time. I listen to my body.

We don't keep track of how many hours the team works. It's more about a culture of ownership, where people really care about the problem they're working on.

Even though I've become a morning person, we're fine with engineers who are more productive at night, as long as they maintain a five-to-six-hour overlap with the other engineers.

"996 culture," working six days a week from 9 a.m. to 9 p.m., has gained traction in Silicon Valley. I think it misses the point. It's more about volume than it is about structure. You want to structure your day towards putting in your best work by thinking about when you'll spend time training, recovering, and learning new skills. I'd rather focus on the right structures than on volume.

Do you have a story to share about working in a 996 culture? Contact this reporter at ccheong@businessinsider.com

• Valerie Cherry was thrilled when her first grandchild was born. She wanted to be a hands-on grandma.
• The mom-of-one yearned to be closer to the young family but was reluctant to leave her hometown.
• With 1,000 miles between them, she found a "middle ground" by renting nearby for half of the year.

This story is based on an interview with Valerie Cherry, 68, a clinical psychologist from Tampa, Florida. It has been edited for length and clarity.

My husband, Glenn, 68, and I were delighted when our first grandchild — a little girl —was born four years ago.

Our son, Jamal, is an only child, and we are a very close-knit family.

We rushed from our home in Tampa to help him and our daughter-in-law, Sierra, who had settled 1,000 miles away in Houston, with the demands of a baby.

Our trips lasted between a month and six weeks, and there was a lot of to-ing and fro-ing between the two cities.

We'd either stay with the family or rent Airbnbs to give everyone a bit of space.

It felt great to be hands-on and useful, especially because Jamal and Sierra work very hard in finance and forensic psychology, respectively.

Back home in Florida, though, we lived life to the full in our gated, suburban community. Glenn, a relief veterinarian, and I had meaningful friendships there.

We knew lots of people, particularly fellow alumni from our colleges in Georgia. There was always something going on, like book clubs and fundraising activities.

Then our grandson was born two years ago. We continued our long visits to care for him and his sister, flying between the two cities.

We started to look at places in Houston

Soon after his birth, Jamal and Sierra approached us about what it felt like when we weren't there. They were a bit nervous and wanted to know whether we'd consider moving close by.

We were torn. As much as we wanted to be with our grandchildren, we valued our time in Tampa. Still, we started to look at places in Houston.

The trouble was that if we were to purchase something in Houston, it would have had to be in the suburbs. Traffic is terrible, so it would have been around a 40-minute drive to my son's.

Another factor was that we didn't want to be tied down by taxes, insurance, and all of that in Texas because we didn't want to give up our home in Tampa.

I Googled other options and came across a building called Landing right in downtown, a little over 10 minutes from the family.

It was different from other arrangements because you could stay there for as long or as short a period as you liked.

We paid a membership fee and secured a two-bedroom apartment that was already furnished. The only things we brought were a couple of pots for the kitchen.

We found a middle ground

It now works out that we spend around seven months a year in Houston and five in Florida. However, the 4,800-square-foot house in Tampa is classified as our main residence.

The apartment is much smaller at 1,600 square feet, but we like it very much. There are two swimming pools in the building, playrooms, and a basketball court.

I feel like we have found a middle ground. We can spend quality time with our grandkids, especially when their parents are on a date or away for the weekend.

We're busy planning for Halloween this year as it's a big thing for us all.

We haven't lost our identity as grandparents

Meanwhile, if one of the children gets a fever at day care or school, Glenn or I can pick them up. It's an extra pair of hands.

We haven't lost our identity now that we're known as Nana and Papa. We regularly fly back and forth to Florida to enjoy the company of longtime friends.

Our neighbors keep an eye on the house while we're away, too. It's reassuring.

I know we're privileged to be in this position, but it really is the best of both worlds.

• Bruno Bianchini quit his job at Google to focus on sustainability in Cambodia and green finance.
• While still at Google, he pursued a degree at Harvard in sustainable studies.
• He says leaving Google was a hard decision, but his career shift aligns with his values.

This as-told-to essay is based on an interview with Bruno Bianchini, the 40-year-old former Head of Global Partnerships for the Middle East, Africa, and Turkey for Google, who is based in the Netherlands. It has been edited for length and clarity.

Growing up in the Italian countryside, sustainability was simply part of everyday life. At 18, I left my small village near Milan to study at Bocconi University in Milan.

In 2005, I started my degree in accounting, corporate finance, and law. Then I did a master's in business administration. When I was about to graduate, a friend at the university said a group of professors had opened a boutique consulting firm. I interviewed for the role and landed it.

That path led me first to consulting and then to Google, where I spent more than 13 years before leaving to pursue work in sustainability.

I started work as a business analyst at the consulting firm in January 2011

At 25, I was working on three projects — a hotel, a food company, and a company that made pressure gauges. My experience was very much about seeing problems through an analytical lens.

In 2012, I was invited to a friend's birthday dinner, where I was seated opposite a guy working at Google. Although Google was already a huge company, I had little sense of its scale. I thought of it mainly as a search engine.

We stayed in touch, and they eventually asked if I'd be interested in an interview

I remember wearing a jacket and tie, and I thought, I can't show up at Google like this; they're never going to hire me. I roughed up my hair, removed my jacket and my tie, and went to the interview.

I had three interviews at Google on the same day. One interviewer asked me about role-related knowledge, the next about more general knowledge, and the third was Googleyness — whether I was a culture fit. I remember thinking in the interview that I wanted to work with these people.

About a week later, I had a fourth interview. The process moved quickly because it was for a temp job. In July 2012, I joined Google.

The Google office in Milan was colorful and playful

I remember there was a game area. In consulting, I'd start work at 8:30 a.m. and leave at 10:30 p.m. every day. At Google, people were coming and going whenever they wanted. The culture was a huge change for me. It was fantastic.

A year later, I applied for a full-time role working with DoubleClick for Publishers, now part of Google Ad Manager. I did lots of prep for the interview, and I got the job.

In 2016, my boss asked me to give a presentation at the Google office in Dubai

After the presentation, a guy who became my new boss asked if I'd consider moving to Dubai because they were expanding the team. Two months later, they opened the role; I applied, got the job, and moved to Dubai.

That same year, I got to see the San Francisco campus for the first time. When I saw the scale of the buildings, the number of meeting rooms, micro kitchens, and the bicycles employees rode around campus, I was mesmerized. Working for one of the most innovative companies on the planet, I felt like I was always at the forefront of tech innovation. I definitely got a kick out of that.

By 2024, I had become the Head of Global Partnerships for the Middle East, Africa, and Turkey at Google

As I was managing a large region, there was a lot of travel.

On office days, I generally worked 9-to-5, depending on projects and deadlines. I might have calls with people in the US, but travel was more hectic. From the moment I arrived, I was having breakfast with colleagues, attending an event, or meeting with clients.

Throughout my time at Google, my value system changed

I'd been thinking about sustainability for some time. When I was in Milan, I met someone from LA who told me they were vegan. They told me about the damage the dairy and meat industries are causing to the planet. I started reading more, and I went down the rabbit hole. I remember feeling that I wanted to be part of the movement for the solution.

While still at Google, I looked into which universities offered degrees in sustainability and came across a program at Harvard.

In December 2025, I resigned from Google

I pursued my master's degree in sustainable studies at Harvard online while working at Google. The last part of my studies involved a thesis. I took a sabbatical from Google and traveled to Cambodia to work on an ambitious project that plans to reforest 100,000 hectares of flooded forest. I worked on the feasibility study.

Google was kind enough to say, "Go pursue your dreams, and if something doesn't work, you're welcome to come back." Eventually, I decided it was time. After four months in Cambodia, I felt the umbilical cord was stretched enough. When I returned from my sabbatical, I handed in my notice.

I feel now that I have a big purpose in my heart, confidence in the abilities Harvard gave me, and, at the same time, I feel financially secure. I could leave a high-paying role where I was making more than $300,000 in annual total compensation for the unknown.

I'm now working as an independent consultant for this project in Cambodia.

Leaving Google was not an easy choice

Google nurtured me in so many ways, but as I was learning more about sustainability, my value system was changing. I was encouraging people to sell more stuff, and on my dark days, I remember thinking that staying at home on the couch was better for the environment.

I want to capitalize on my background in business and finance. I'm currently working on publishing a research paper about the project in Cambodia. I'm doing this long-distance while we're securing funds for the pilot. This month, I moved to the Netherlands, as it is one of the best places for green finance.