Better to be a freaky Cubs fan.

My friend Julie is mentally ill. More so than physically ill. Because she’s an alcoholic. And I’m baffled. About how to deal with it. Chances are. That Julie is even more baffled than me. Because she has to cope with her situation. Daily. Almost every minute of her life. I don’t have Julie’s problem.  Though I have my share of addictions. To one thing or another. To the Chicago Cubs, for instance. And to daily physical and mental exercise. I have to walk. Up to 10 miles. Virtually every day of my life. I also have to think, think, think. And to write, write, write. Therefore, maybe I am mentally ill, too. With compulsive disorders. That helps me to better understand Julie’s plight. Julie, to amazing degree,  loves her disorder. Even though it does her harm.  I also love and embrace my disorders. But I’ve brought it all under reasonable control. In my opinion, Julie hasn’t. I tell her so.  That galls Julie. No end.  She’s often miffed with me. But I keep plugging away.  Proclaiming that it’s better to be a Cubs fan and an exercise freak. Than it is to be an alcoholic. --Jim Broede