I know I'm a weirdo, but I kinda enjoy the fact that life's meaningless.
It frees me from the struggle of trying to find meaning in everything; trying to make all the pieces fit.
I'm no longer interested in even creating a coherent meaningful story to explain the events in the arc of my life.
Yeah, work sucks. It's work, it's supposed to. But, my weekends are mine and if I don't have anything more meaningful to do than look forward to a good cup of coffee in the morning and a perusal of the internet in the afternoon, then that's fine by me.
Oh, and some good quality laundry time. God, I love the smell of laundry soap and bleach!