I expected the rejection letter and put this notation at the top of my to-do list for last Thursday, when I knew it would arrive: “Weep, then move on.” Instead, when the rejection came, I went back to bed, pleased that the morning was gray as my mood. Thirty seven minutes later, the sun burst through the bedroom window and chased me downstairs. Grabbed the car keys. Like it or not, I was moving on. Outside, I stepped on a dead mouse in a rain puddle. Just how I felt. Got in the car, drove to my favorite downtown cafe …