Throughout the commercial, no matter what he was doing at the time, there came a moment where Lou had to mobilize himself and shuffle off to do it all over again. “Gotta make the donuts,” he said.

That’s me. No matter what day it is, no matter what else I’ve got going on inside my head or life as we know it, I gotta make the donuts.

This morning I have a breakfast with someone I really don’t want to see this early in the day. It’s a customer, sorta. I could cancel, I suppose. But that wouldn’t be making the donuts.

Later on, there’s a conference call with Miami. You think I want to sit in an airless room and hear a bunch of halting excuses about that situation? Donuts.

Then I get to sit in the same room with the same bunch of people and engage in a swift succession of video conference calls. There’s one at 9:30, 10:30, 11:30. They won’t be bad. There will be coffee. And donuts.

After lunch, the afternoon looks like it’s shaping up to be a bunch of unpleasant altercations with people who consider their interests to be superior to mine. They are wrong, at least as far as I’m concerned. That doesn’t mean they don’t need to be convinced. More donuts.

That’s just today. Tomorrow there’s a huge thing that has big, gnarly teeth all over it. Next week, most companies in my business start doing their earnings calls, which is a whole lot of donuts for everybody. And May looks like a pile of big fat crullers in a variety of flavors that have yet to be invented.

If it sounds like I’m complaining, you’re wrong. I’m not. Lou didn’t complain. He was beyond that. He had a fate. He woke. He put on the uniform, which at that time was an ignoble pair of brownish pajamas and a funny little cap. And he went to work.

Which is what I’m going to do right now. Without the cap. I have my dignity, you know.