My partner's parents decided to help with all the planning and set up for his sister's wedding. I am sure part of the reason was because they had offered to foot part of the expenses. There came a point in the planning, when his mom seemed to sort of run-amok with her ideas. His sister ended up accepting some plans for her wedding that I don't think she was really that fond of, but she went along with them anyways. One of the things that stands out the most to me, was this idea that they would make a large wooden box with a hole in it, and people would smash their dinner plates into the box. Then the fragments of the broken plates would be put into metal keepsake tins for the guests to take home. (The tins were cute, the trash inside seemed very weird to me.) So imagine it's the evening of your wedding reception, and people are in a corner of the room smashing their plates into a box. And then part of your wedding party is supposed to go in the back and fix up the tins of broken ceramic ware. It was like an exercise in how to needlessly generate extra stress hormones in a large room full of people. My partner's sister looked like she cringed every time someone threw a plate in the box. It is weird (and wasteful) to propose to break brand new plates for a tradition that isn't even part of your ancestry. It's weird to railroad the people getting married into accepting to do things they don't really want. Soon after that, my partner's mother offered that she would be happy to help us plan and throw our wedding too, just like they did for his sister. I think the experience made us both content to elope. Question: Why did the partner's sister cringe? === The answer to the above question is

OPTIONS:
- Because of the keepsake tins falling.
- not enough information
- Because of the plates being thrown into a box
- Because of the box falling on the floor

Answer: Because of the plates being thrown into a box

Problem: OPTIONS:
- He is perfectly fine
- not enough information
- He is dead
- He barely survives
Q: ROLAND NARROWED HIS EYES AND STARED UPWARD INTO THE DARKNESS, across the top of Mont Segur toward the Cathar fortress. Standing on a high walkway of planks behind the palisade of the crusaders' small wooden fort, he heard faraway voices and saw torches moving on the Cathar rampart. The two men on watch with him that night, a sergeant from Champagne and a young man-at-arms from Brittany, were talking in low tones about the women to be had far below, at the foot of the mountain. They seemed not to see the activity about the Cathar stronghold on the upper peak of the mountaintop opposite their own fort. But Roland, knowing Diane was in the besieged fortress, could not take his eyes from it. He knew he had to act soon. Each day the crusaders grew stronger and the Cathars weaker. Once the Cathar stronghold fell, the crusaders would slaughter all within, including Diane. The sergeant, chuckling, was offering his young companion a wineskin. The Breton never received it. From behind the Cathar wall came the sound of a huge thump, as if a giant's fist had pounded Mont Segur. Roland recognized the sound, and fought panic as he thrust his arms out, trying to push the other two men toward the ladder. But there was no time for them to climb down to safety. The thump was the counter-weight of a stone-caster, and the whistling noise that followed fast upon it was the rock it had thrown. A shape as big as a wine barrel blotted out the stars. The stone hit the parapet beside Roland, and the whole palisade shuddered. Roland caught a glimpse of the sergeant's horrified face and heard his scream as the boulder struck him, crushing him to the ground. Question: What is probably the sergeant's status at the end of the story? === The answer to the above question is
Answer: He is dead

Problem:OPTIONS:
- Less Food.
- Lighter Meals.
- not enough information
- Salads.

When I had trouble bending over to tie my shoes and I wasn't pregnant. When I hit about 35 I started having trouble with weight. The strange thing was to me, it wasn't that I was eating more then I used to, as a matter of fact I started eating less. When that didn't help I barely ate at all. Still I couldn't lose weight. What I didn't know was we start to lose muscle mass every decade beginning in our thirties, and I was a ripe 35. Muscles use up more calories than fat, so less muscle means a slower metabolism and the need for fewer calories, and the pounds stack on easier. My second problem was my narcolepsy. When you wake up after a nights sleep there is a release of adrenaline which prompts body and mind into action and helps burn off calories. Narcolepsy causes me to sleep on and off during the day, and as explained by my doctor (so if I have this wrong about adrenaline it is my doctors fault lol) I am not getting that adrenaline release because my bodies clock doesn't know if I am asleep or awake. He suggested in the morning to start exercising about 20 minutes to get that adrenaline rush, in the afternoon exercise about twenty minutes more for the same reason Dieting and exercising brought those pounds back down. I will say it is much harder in the winter for me then in the summer. Summer time I am naturally active. I ride bikes with my husband, swim, garden, mow about an acre of lawn. In the winter I can't ride, swim, garden, or mow, and I hate exercise I don't enjoy. Anyway the long answer to the defining moment but there it is just the same. Question: What does she eat to lose weight? === The answer to the above question is
****
A: not enough information

input with options: "Please remember me to myself!" When sliding toward mania in 2016, I begged this of my therapist. He cocked his head. "What do you mean?" I had no ideaon a conscious levelwhat I was asking for, just that I felt in a desperate sense that the self I knew was slipping away. An inability to recognize myself either in my writing or in reflecting upon my own actions was taking over. And then? I didn't care. I wanted to kiss girls. Which is finejust not something I ordinarily do. I wanted to drink, smoke. Again, finebut not something I ordinarily do. "Do I seemokay?" I asked a colleague at work. A woman I barely knew. Insanely, I thought that since she worked with disabled students, many of whom struggled with mental illness, she would know mania when she saw it. This was a rather foolish assumptionespecially since she's an educator, not a psychiatrist, especially with how skilled I am at wearing the mask of calm, the face of sanity. "You seem great, Julie. Cheery. Professional as always." I let her reassurance placate me. Wanted to be placated. Yet, within months I lost my job. And not only that, but a chance at a scholarship, two really important long term friendshipsrelationships I'd enjoyed since high school. I was hospitalized three times between September and February. I lost my ability to trust myself, lost my mind. It is now a little over two years since I first felt that sliding. Twenty-six months since I knew that somewhere in the deepest parts of who I am, I was slipping. Nine seasons since I begged Dr. Poe, "Remember me to myself!" I'm still recuperating. Yes. I have felt like I wasn't me. Question: Why did Julie lose her job? === The answer to the above question is
OPTIONS:
- Because she lost her mind.
- Because she was hospitalized.
- not enough information
- Because she couldn't trust herself anymore.
output:
Because she lost her mind.