I my professional life, I have been shamelessly spoiled. Not with salaries, titles, or flashy benefits – but with bosses. Something that many might not experience. Such people who actually make you look forward to work a little. When I think back, I can only recall perhaps one boss who was directly bad. The rest I could easily list from good to fantastic. And at the top of that list is Micke. A boss, a friend, and an incredibly thoughtful person.
Micke wasn't just my boss; he was someone you almost resented for liking so much. Warm, straightforward, funny, and full of ideas. We clicked quickly, perhaps because we both had that entrepreneurial spirit – a restlessness combined with a belief that things could be done a little better, a little more fun, a little smarter. We never had salary negotiations, syncs; we just had good talks about life, the future, and the here and now.
I remember one lunch especially clearly. We were sitting at an outdoor restaurant in Gamla Stan after a hectic spring, and I said, almost as if I was revealing the meaning of life:
"I've figured out what life is all about. You're just supposed to have a nice time; that's what we're created for."
I thought I was pretty profound. Micke looked at me, smiled, and replied:
"Everything just needs to be AWESOME, I say it all the time. But if it's not AWESOME, then let it be."
Right then and there, it became more than a joke. It became a motto. Everything should be AWESOME. Not just the big things – the dream job, the travels, dinners, milestones – but everyday life. Mondays. Meetings. Coffee breaks. And, according to Micke, in the details, like toilet paper. Or the bathrooms at work.
Because that's where it happens, in the details. We often talk about brands and storytelling in companies – how to create feelings, build relationships, be remembered. But the same applies to life. What do we remember? People, quotes, small rituals. A boss who says "everything should be AWESOME" and then actually lives that way. Not perfection, but a kind of stubborn refusal to settle for "just okay."
So when I pitched to Micke that I was going to start a company selling AWESOME toilet paper, he said, "Exactly the kind of thing you look at to get that AWESOME feeling."
Because if you think about it: you start and end almost every day in the toilet. It's perhaps the most democratic room we have – everyone has to go there, regardless of title, salary, or LinkedIn profile. Why should that particular place be condemned to be boring, beige, and "it'll do"? If life is about having a nice time, and if Micke is right that everything should be AWESOME – then we can't make an exception in the room we visit most often every day.
That's why I love the idea of raising the bar for things we otherwise see as basic commodities. That a pack of toilet paper isn't just "toilet paper," but a small everyday luxury, a wink, a splash of color, a statement in the bathroom. Something that makes you smile a little when you see it, that reminds you that you deserve more than "just okay" even in the most private moments.
Micke taught me a lot, but he taught me to ask the most relevant question:
"Does this feel AWESOME?"
Because if your toilet paper can be AWESOME – then you're probably well on your way to having a pretty nice life.
Micke, I miss you every day. I will try to make life AWESOME, just as you thought it should be, even if it's much harder without you on this earth. Thank you for everything.