Blessed

Life owes me nothing.  Quite the opposite, I owe life EVERYTHING!  Each new day that comes in my direction is a gift from above, a present bestowed upon me that could’ve just as easily gone to a potential being far less fortunate.  ONE egg cell from my mother conjoined with ONE sperm cell from my father to form ME.  I am just the extraordinarily lucky beneficiary of that chance union; if the presence or timing of either had been different by even a Planck length or an attosecond, someone else would have been created at that transcendent instant and not me.  I am therefore eternally grateful for a stroke of fortune that I can take no credit for and which I can never hope to repay; all I can do is jubilate over life every day like that sun-ordained bloc of time is my last one, all while giving heartfelt thanks for the pluperfect gift of consciousness. Not just when things are going rosy for Yours Truly either—That part is risibly easy!—but when the sky turns pitch-black and the wheels start falling off my life cart as well.