I am grateful for this wonderful life.

Not a life in general. This one, with your specific kitchen in it, the chipped mug, the neighbor whose television you can hear through the wall.

It is easy to be grateful for life in the abstract, the way you are fond of humanity as a category. Harder to be grateful for Thursday.

But Thursday is what is actually on offer. There is no other life running in parallel that you were supposed to be having. Whatever is in the room with you right now is the whole of it, which is either a terrible thought or a great one depending on the hour.