I had something that might have been a little supernatural. So I was trying to sleep one time, and I sleep under the blankets 99% of the time. I sleep downstairs, so hearing noise is pretty normal. Also, my door doesn't lock, or even latch the door handle, so you can just push it open. So I was laying down, maybe at 60% in terms of how close I was to falling asleep, so I just had to lay down for like 5 more minutes. But there are a lot of noises, and they freak me out even though I just sorta pretend that they're definitely a cat or my dog or something. So, I'm already slightly spooked, but I'm ignoring it and going to sleep anyway. But then, I hear my door open. That isn't too weird, I do have cats, so even though by this point my fear is intense, I just sorta blow it off and keep trying to sleep. And then, something that's never happened in a situation like this, I feel something moving towards me on my bed. It feels like a cats movements, with light feet making slight reverberations on the bed. So my fear goes away entirely, and I'm like "Oh okay, it's just the cat, that's good." And I lift my blankets off my head to let my cat under with me, and because the fear seemed to make the atmosphere under there very hot and tense, and then I look at my bed and there's nothing. So I just pretend nothing happened and go to sleep, but that still sticks with me and even though it's kinda underwhelming I still think it was very strange since I wasn't at the "edge of consciousness" stage of going to sleep, so I feel like the chances I imagined it aren't too high. Question: The events of the story probably lasted: === The answer to the above question is

OPTIONS:
- the whole night
- not enough information
- under 30 minutes
- for one hour

Answer: under 30 minutes

I already gave this example in another post but I think it was a really interesting situation with an interesting outcome so I'm going to repeat it. When I was 21 years old I produced a play. It was actually my second. The first was really successful. With the second I bit off a lot more than I could chew and I got too big for my britches and I ended up with a sprawling money eating disaster that caused me to have to move to a poor part of town and to go to court with my publicist and to be in debt for a couple of years. I could have absolutely let this ruin me and discourage me. And I realized this was a very delicate situation for my creativity and my sense of hope for the future. So I said to myself one day, "let me take a walk to the park and have this situation out with myself once and for all." Two blocks from my house was this wonderful neo classical park with beautiful stairs leading from level to level. I walked up and down the stairs and basically said to myself "this was a failure. I am having a failure experience. But I have a choice of how I look at this. And the big Takeaway for me with this experience is that I have talent and there is a big creative future for me. And I have hope. I have to slow down. I have to make sure I don't get ahead of myself. I definitely have to clean up this mess and be patient for however long it takes . But bottom line the big take away from this experience is that I have talent and I have a future and I have Hope." It was one of the most amazing moments I've ever had with myself. There are about 100 other experiences in my life where I wish I had had a conversation like this. This one was a treasure. Question: The rent in the neighborhood that the author moved to was most likely: === The answer to the above question is

OPTIONS:
- cheaper than their previous apartment
- not enough information
- slightly more expensive than their last apartment before it
- the same price as their prior place

Answer: cheaper than their previous apartment

Justin Nelson, Jr., pounded the last of the stakes of his new cattle pen into the dry dirt. Like sentinels, they sprouted in a line from the barn, swerved north of the stream, veered at a right angle for the stump, and followed Justin to where he stood. The cross-beams remained, after which he'd finally be done. He took a white handkerchief from his shirt pocket and wiped his forehead. The task had been lengthened considerably, although Justin refused to admit it, by incessant thinking, an activity which often stopped him with his hammer in mid-air. But now, he would soon be able to think all he wanted from the comfort of his porch as the cattle wandered from shade to shade. After he bought some cattle, he reminded himself. Under the entirely blue vault of sky, Justin felt something pass between himself and the morning sun. His leathered face turned up to see nothing but ubiquitous light, curving toward him in all directions. He arched his aging back, feeling the popping and hating it more than usual, before wiping his neck and replacing the handkerchief. He had that feeling that he'd better drink something and sit down or he'd end up in that damn hospital again. Twice last year, whether he needed it or not, he went in for a check-up, and twice a year, some intern treated him like the village idiot. Truth be told, everyone who knew about him had treated him that way for nearly eleven years, except his niece. With a sigh escaping from the bellows of his withering chest, Justin shuffled back to the porch he had added onto his small two-room home. In the distance, a plume of dust was billowing off the road. Mail truck. Must be time for breakfast. About time I ate something. Question: What does Justin think that the hospital intern thought about him? === The answer to the above question is

OPTIONS:
- That he is the village idiot.
- That he is old
- That he is slow.
- not enough information

Answer:
That he is the village idiot.