Absurd?

I was reading up on Albert Camus because my therapist told me I have Existential Depression. Don't you love labels. I already am the proud owner of sober alcoholic dyslexic with obsessive-compulsive tendencies to name a few. Add existentially depressed and I am oh so profound. Not to mention borderline genius. (Existential depression is usually found in gifted people.) I do some Wikipedia research so I can fully represent my new label. When I think Existential, I think Camus, The Stranger, “Standing on the beach with a gun in my hand,” The Cure circa 1980. But to my surprise I find out Camus does not want to be known for existentialism, but that his belief was Absurdism. Basically the jist of what Camus says is that it is absurd to attempt to find meaning in the universe because there is none. This leaves one with 3 choices: Suicide, Leap of faith or Acceptance. He chose acceptance, which according to him lies true freedom, passion and the choice to make your life mean whatever you want it to. I can get down with that. And for today I choose to believe that there has got to be a bigger meaning somehow somewhere and I may never know it and that is okay. I will just live life to the fullest and give back the best I can. SO, first stop on my way out of the neighborhood of languid squalor: Absurdism. Which means I am no longer existentially depressed. Darn.

By the way- Wikipedia has this all listed in a handy dandy chart for your philosphical pleasure.