The Equivalent, metaphorically, of a death sentence

The last day of the school year, the lady I have referred to as our local answer to Maggie Thatcher, left a letter in my mailbox, informing me that my services would not be needed in the next school year.

As I didn't check my mailbox before leaving on vacation, she had to send it to my home--registered mail, no less.

Interestingly enough, no explanation was provided.

I cannot say that I shall miss the tender mercies of this place. I think, for example, of the waste of time represented by a weekly faculty meeting in which we are encouraged to think of ourselves as fish salespeople, happy to keep the customer satisfied..... with no realization that teaching is not a form of selling.....