News Agency prides on accuracy--bt cant even spell my five-lettered name correctly!

It is been a long time since i let it all out. Where to begin, oh, wherever should i begin to contemplate my enormous heart-ache over the ever-so-maniacal goings on in my life. I know this is pretty selfish to be yammering on non-stop about myself, but hey, this IS my blog isnt it? Darn it, i will use up all my nonverbal strength to eloquently describe my agony over these past few weeks.

About a month ago, with tremendous relief, I resigned from an insanely-high paying position in a Singaporean bank because I just cannot wrap my head around the job scope. First of all, I have no background or interest in finance. The second reason was that I know that I have talents in other areas, the field of study which i enrolled into three years ago--communications. I was dead set on quitting my job regardless of whether I had another job in line.

I had previously applied, auditioned and was shortlisted on a position in a news agency hence reminding me of the only reason on why i moved to the big city in the first place. After the whole saga of interviews and no response from this television network, i moved on. I landed a banking offer and got through. After a couple of weeks of complete obliviousness of how tough the job is, I was stressing out. I started to smoke more regularly and started to eat chocolates. I have a skin allergy to nuts and blemishes began to appear on my face. I attended my graduation in borneo looking like shrek. With all the tension built inside of me, i began to digest other plausible alternatives.

To my delight, the same news agency called me a few times while i was still bonded by the bank and asked me to come over for an interview. Enforcing my amazing hidden acting talents, i faked a medical leave from a panel clinic and went to see the other potential job offer. Instead of an interview, they hired me on the spot, and told me to come in as a broadcast journalist. Now this is the dream which i endorsed myself endlessly as a teenager up to the time in university. This is it. This is my calling.

Of course then reality splashed its cold waters over my daydreams of one day becoming the most incredible news anchor in the world~ muahahahaha (evil laughter soundbite)! The management at this agency was shoddy and well, mismanaged. The CEO was a youngish big shot who had recently bought the company without prior experience in the broadcasting industry. Upon chance, I tried to say hello to this arrogant sonofabitch a couple of times when he brushed past me as if i was a life-size cardboard.

The so-called editors at the editorial desks cannot seem to even spell my name right.Mind u, these are people who pride themselves of being impeccably accurate and precise to a dot. My name is Dhipa and these mofos spell it Dhilpa. Despite having to correct them and introducing myself as DHIPA, they continued the stupid spell of ignorance. Its not a very hard to spell my name. Its not a Russian or a German name which has more consonants within balance. It is a perfectly-given Sanskriti name for a humble Hindu devotee like me. But what did i get...Dhilpa. A name that comes close to Shilpa Shetty. Which brings me to the next god-awful element of the workplace i now call a meat freezer.

There are people in the vicinity, typically in the production partition which are completely arrogant and obnoxious. They do not have eye contact with you. They gang up and create nonsensical epilogues amongst themselves, disregarding others in the office. Rudeness at its highest form.

Sure the bank was a friendly place to work in and they had an extremely systematic work ethic plus amazing co-workers, but the job scope was immensely out of my league. I used to moan and bitch everyday for release of retained misery. On the other hand, the broadcasting journalism gig is wonderful. I found complete escalation of job satisfaction each time I move on to an assigned task.

Unfortunately, the management is badly-maintained. There is less-than-adequate cooperation between the cameracrew, technicians, graphic designers, production and journalist. For an example, I knew I had a sure thing lined up for me when i recently attended an open house at a lavish setting. All the incumbent politician were present and I handled the coverage pretty well, provided with a cameraman who has served NatGeo and has a professional experience of 13 years under his belt. I was anxious to get back to the office to type out this guaran-damn-teed hot news. Nothing i could do when i found the footage completely unusable because the tape was defective. Nothing salvageable from that event and I had lost a key story.

My frustration with the inevitable was on a spree that week. The next day, I found myself on an exciting assignment to produce a write-up on a 118 year-old Norwegian vessel. The next thing i know, the cameraman informed me that there was no petrol in the company car and that if i could get money for the petrol, then he can go. If the old man would tell me the unfortunate news sooner, i would have quickly arranged some sort of a negotiable solution.

Pissed to the very core because this would be the dozenth time i was faced with tardiness of other people, my facial expression displayed my thoughts at the time. In the minds of the passers-by, they are sure to conclude that reporters are very arrogant, not knowing the predicament i was in.