Problem:OPTIONS:
- the speaker will have to stay an extra few days
- not enough information
- the speaker must stay in a halfway house
- the speaker will be released to parents

The doctors told me I would be placed on a seventy-two hour hold for observation. Knowing this was the only way out, I obeyed and diligently signed all the papers. I hated my parents but still felt the inescapable drive to prove to them that I was worth something. I had to show them I wasn't crazy. As the hours passed, I was shown to a blank room with plastic sheets and plastic pillows, which caused me to wonder what kind of distant confused souls had been imprisoned in this sterile place. There were bars on the windows and the only door out of the unit was locked 24/7. I knew my only refuge for the time being would be through the hour a day art therapy class and the smoke breaks I could take at will. They had given me a legal pad after my parents had told them of my affinity for writing. With it I set to work on the flow of words and the river of thoughts, both dark and hopeful that careened through my tired mind. Instead of sleep, I would write. I expressed my vicious frustration for the place and thought constantly of the passing hours, counting them down as they went. Because of this I was thankful for the eight to ten I would use up easily in my escapes to the world behind my eyelids. There I was free and could experience a life unhindered by limitations of ethics or gravity. When I'd awake I'd write what I could remember of my escapes on the obtrusive legal pad. I had the suspicion that the attendants would come in and read my thoughts as I was eating meals or watching TV and I wondered if this was hindering my ability to get out. I wondered what kind of opinions and judgments they were forming about me. I had bared my soul on those pages explaining desperately how the thoughts would not leave even in this place, where it mattered most that they were gone. The fuckers would never leave. Maybe I was crazy. Question: What will happen after the 72 hour observation is completed? === The answer to the above question is
****
A: not enough information

The southern state of Alabama is the center of the U.S. political universe this week as voters on Tuesday choose a senator to replace Jeff Sessions, who left the Senate to become attorney general. The race pits controversial Republican Roy Moore, who is battling sexual harassment allegations, against Democrat Doug Jones, a former prosecutor. The outcome of the race could have national implications for both political parties and for President Donald Trump. Moore has denied several allegations of sexual misconduct when he was in his 30s involving women who were teenagers at the time, including one who was 14. "I do not know them. I had no encounter with them. I never molested anyone," Moore said in a televised interview Sunday with the Voice of Alabama Politics. Jones says the accusations make Moore unfit to serve in the Senate. "It is crystal clear that these women are telling the truth and Roy Moore is not!" Jones said. Trump recorded a get-out-the-vote phone message for Moore and spoke on his behalf at a rally in neighboring Florida on Friday. "And we want jobs, jobs, jobs. So get out and vote for Roy Moore. Do it. Do it," he said. Trump held off on endorsing Moore for several weeks in the wake of the sexual misconduct allegations, but now says electing Moore is a priority for him. "We certainly don't want to have a liberal Democrat who is controlled by Nancy Pelosi and controlled by Chuck Schumer. We don't want to have that for Alabama," Trump said. In the final days of the campaign, Moore is highlighting his support for the president's agenda. "We are going to see if the people of Alabama will support the president and support his agenda in Washington by electing somebody that is not part of the establishment there," Moore said. Democrat Jones told supporters that Moore's character is the issue. "We know who we are, Alabama, we know who we are. This is an election to tell the world who we are and what we stand for." Question: How long did Roy Moore's televised interview probably take? === The answer to the above question is
OPTIONS:
- Over 30 minutes.
- About an hour.
- Under 10 minutes.
- not enough information
Under 10 minutes.

Problem: OPTIONS:
- mother
- not enough information
- myself
- grandmother
Q: Once, while grating potatoes to make potato pancakes, I had a Proustian moment. I can't lay claim to much in the way of literary knowledge, but I do know that Proust's 'Remembrance of Things Past' was prompted by his biting into a pastry and feeling a sense of overwhelming pleasure with no recognizable cause. In my case, I was instantly transported back to the grandmother's kitchen as she and my mother grated potatoes in order to make 'poutine rapee', also known as 'poutines'. People will immediately flash to the Quebecker ethnic food known by the same name. However, in spite of all the Franco-culinary posturing, this is really only French Fries with gravy and, oh yeah, can I have some cheese curds on that? One etymological source indicates that 'poutine' really means 'mess'. If you come from my part of the country, the Quebecker poutine is just another entry in the long list of dishes that will cause you to keel over from a myocardial infarction while shoveling a foot of snow out of the driveway shortly after you've retired; sometimes before. Nope, poutines as I know them are a different creature entirely. They seem to be more of an Acadian thing and none of my friends had even heard of them, much less eaten a single one. Because of the work involved, my mother only made poutines for special times: Christmas, say or Easter. My mother would borrow this grater that was about two feet long and she and my grandmother would set to work. Generally, they started off with an enormous paper sack of potatoes, about 25 pounds or so (We used to buy potatoes by the cartload and store them in a wooden bin in the basement. Because we were cheap labour, the kids would be sent down to retrieve a few for the family meal. It was creepy to descend into the dank cellar, feel our way through the dim obstacle course formed by my grandfather's thousands of tools and bits of wood and locate the bin. After a time in storage, the eyes on potatoes began to sprout pale tendrils and it didn't take much imagination to visualize all kinds... Question: Who borrowed the grater? === The answer to the above question is
Answer:
mother