Bad Mood Shadow

Sunday 25th April 2010, 5.20pm, Ratu Kini Resort - Mana Island

I really don't know what's been wrong with me the past week or so, I've been suffering from an inexcusably and unjustifiably bad mood that has been lurking in my shadow and jumping on my back once every few days, placing it's head on top of mine and supplanting every miserable thought or acid tongued retort from its own miserable cadaver into mine. There's absolutely no explanation for it and I feel like a horrible person who doesn't deserve to be here when all I can seem to do is get angry at unavoidable inconveniences. I am on Mana Island, staying in a resort where I am fed 3 times a day, where I have a comfy, clean bed, where there are 4 resident dogs and 20 other friendly backpackers for me to play with, where no one expects anything from me other than that I will spend my days sunbathing, reading and swimming. And yet.

Take this example. There is a saying commonly, and in my frustrated mind, too overly used on the islands, that is "Fiji Time". Fiji Time is the Fijians way of saying relax, don't stress, we'll get round to it eventually, sure we said dinner would be at 7, but we're working on Fiji Time, so 7 doesn't really mean anything. Everyone else seems to have wound down their internal clocks to quite successfully synchronise with Fiji Time, no one expects anything to happen until it has actually happened, everyone is just so chilled out man. Do you want to know how well I am adjusting to Fiji Time? How peaceful and easy-going I am? I think that "Fiji Time" is just an unimaginative excuse for being god damn lazy and incompetent, a way of revoking your word and never fulfilling anything you promise at the time when you say it will be done. It is a manipulation of semantics to aid procrastinators, dawdlers, idlers and the unpunctual.

The way I can prove this is by exemplifying the fact that on the islands, the only time "Fiji Time" is not a valid pardon for something being late, is when it's time to check out.
"Oh sorry I'm handing back my key 15 minutes late, you know how it is, ha ha, overslept, still on Fiji Time!"
"That will be 15 dollars late key charge."
It is the most hypocritical, one-sided and infuriatingly illogical argument I have ever heard! Just writing about it now is making my blood boil, I shouldn't be this stressed!

I got annoyed again this morning when I realised that Notebook Number Three had come to an end, leaving me without means to continue writing. This would not do. So I wandered down to the "shop" behind reception and asked if they sold notepads. I was presented with a spiral bound jotter no bigger than my palm. I asked if they had any scrap paper I could use, thinking I'd just make do whilst marooned from the mainland, and the woman behind the desk, sat with a messy pile of paper strands in front of her, sighed and said "No, I don't think so." Helpful. So I have been forced to buy the notebook that is too small for a rodent to keep an accurate diary in, and evidently, yes, it's pissing me off.

I know I sound stupid. Things not happening on time and lack of desirable A5 paper on a tropical island paradise... I shouldn't be even nearly as irate as I am. Maybe these things are just cursory distraction techniques from something bigger that is looming, a few clouds in the sky, Fiji Time, uncooked potatoes at dinner, small paper and slightly expensive vodka would never usually be the kind of things to have the power to make me so tense, so on edge, so snappy. The bad mood just keeps jumping on my back, holding on around my neck and refusing to let go. But I don't think it's anything to do with beautiful Fiji. It is a manifestation of fear of something bigger, a much bigger bad mood, a much bigger continent indeed.