Bob Marley and Me

Don't Forget the Xanax

Hi, y’all. I’m feeling a bit crummy this week. I did manage to finish a long scene for Crossed, Cursed, & Nearly Dead. Now I am entrenched in another one. I published a new post to That Rebel with a Blog yesterday. Now, today, I’ve taken a turn for the worse. Still, I owe you a post for tomorrow, so… I hope you enjoy this expanded edition of a note I shared on Monday.

Here’s the note (with a few additions):

I updated my profile picture. This was taken on the balcony of a cruise ship headed for Ocho Rios, Jamaica, and always makes me smile. You can’t see my eyes, but you can see my soul.

Oh. And word from the wise? If you take the windy (hairpin-curves windy, not hair-blowing windy as in the pic) excursion up to Bob Marley’s compound on Nine Mile, don’t sit where you can see the narrow dirt lane road. And don’t partake of the goodies.

My travel companion had an anxiety attack inside Bob’s crowded, tiny bedroom. (Did you know that the single bed he sings of is so tiny I’m surprised HE could…