They’re moving this old horse/cow/choose your animal name to a new pasture. I’d worked hard to appreciate and improve the old one. Not to be. No matter how good you are at your job, nothing is secure anymore. Nothing really ever has been.
It would have been nice, if my boss had not chosen the middle of the hall to discuss this with me. It would have been nice if someone once in a damn while gave a thought to my feelings. They don’t. They haven’t.
Maybe that saying about the grass is always greener on the other side is true. I’ll let you know.