A few weeks ago, my boyfriend installed a new app on my iPhone for me. And by “for me,” I mean that before I noticed, he sneakily managed to take my iPhone from me, navigate to the app store, download the app, and then all innocently ask me to type in my iTunes password. I petulantly did so, knowing that he had purposely bypassed me in this particular app acquisition process.

But, like always, he knows what was best for me.

The app is called Gratitude. I know, I know, I had the same reaction. We now need an iPhone app for expressing gratitude? What is the world coming to?

The Gratitude Journal, whose tagline is “zen at your fingertips,” is best described as a little private notebook, that you open up before you go to sleep each night, and reflect on the day by listing out the things that day for which you’re grateful. When you’re done, you can rate the day on a five-star scale, and even add a picture from your photo album to memorialize the day further.

My boyfriend thinks I need this app. Mainly because, in my personal life, I often have a really hard time seeing the bigger picture when I’m trapped down with the devil in the details. Sometimes I will have had a perfectly decent day, but then something small and likely insignificant will tip me over and all of the happiness from earlier will inevitably pour out and pool around my ankles. I’m exaggerating. But only barely.

Another reason my boyfriend thinks I need this app is because the last time this happened, I was tearfully lamenting, in breaths between uncontrollable sobs, that I couldn’t quantify “happiness” as a value on the spreadsheet I was making for my cost-benefit analysis of the problem.