Chloe's house reminded Paul of a cross between a used bookstore, a computer repair shop, and a college dorm. A wall of bookcases dominated the living room, each shelf crammed with two, sometimes three layers of books, videotapes, CD's and DVD's. More stacks of books and magazines stood in every corner. Paul was certain they would have taken over all the other flat spaces as well, were it not for the half-assembled computers and three dusty old monitors occupying the coffee table, end tables, and everything in between. The only semi-open spaces were the two couches that faced each other from across the room. A large red and black checkered blanket covered one of them, while the other was cracked but still serviceable brown leather. Thrift store purchases both, Paul thought. "The computer stuff belongs to one of my roommates," Chloe said. "She's always fiddling with those things to get better performance or whatever. The books are mostly mine or my other roommate, Kurt's. Come on into the kitchen and we'll rustle up a sandwich." Paul followed her back into the open kitchen area, which (given that he was ostensibly here to have lunch) he was relieved to see was clean. There was clutter in there certainly, but no dirty dishes or leftover foodstuffs appeared in evidence. Along the left wall was a cheap, plastic patio table with long wooden benches on each side and miss-matched chairs at either end. Newspapers, books, and a laptop occupied most of its surface area, but the end closest to Paul seemed clear enough to see actual use as a place for dining. "Is peanut butter ok?" she asked, motioning him towards one of the chairs. "Sure," he said and sat down at the table. As she started to prepare a couple of peanut butter sandwiches on white bread she said, "So, tell me Paul, why are you getting fired tomorrow?" When Chloe was talking about Paul being fired? - not enough information - After talking to Kurt - While she was making sandwiches - At the bookstore
While she was making sandwiches

Marnie Sleightholme was well chuffed when she got the chance to be carnival queen, and she couldn't give a shit if it was true what folk were saying about her only getting picked because she'd had her right arm ripped off. Ever since the accident, Deborah Bullock had been using twice as much make-up to disguise her rage. Marnie being picked as carnival queen had only made her pile it on even thicker. Deborah Bullock told anyone who would listen how it was a complete piss-take to give the job to a cripple. 'Imagine getting a wedding cake covered in frosty decorations and shit like that, but it's already got a big chunk bitten out of it. Well, that's exactly how it is.' Deborah Bullock had dreamed of being carnival queen since more or less the start of primary school. She used to tear their pictures out of the newspaper and dress up to look like them, and tell Marnie she never could because she was too fat and ugly even to pretend. It was Deborah Bullock's on-off boyfriend who'd been driving the car Marnie had been sitting in when it veered off the road and crashed into a tree halfway down Back South Lane. It was pointless trying to hide the truth. There was only one reason anybody went down Back South Lane at that time of night, and the flashing blue lights illuminated the exact location for the whole town to see. When Marnie came round in a hospital bed, the first face she saw was Deborah Bullock's. She felt an ache in her side and blinked her eyes. The room was bare and cold. There was an empty chair in the corner. Deborah Bullock slapped some cheap flowers down on the bed and leaned in. She smelled of talcum powder and nicotine. 'Do you want the good news or the bad news? The good news is you've finally lost some weight. The bad news is, they've chopped your right arm off. So you're still a fat bitch.' Who felt an ache in her side when Marnie woke up? - Deborah's boyfriend - not enough information - Marnie - Deborah
Marnie

Q: New Year's resolutions are great, unless you don't really resolve to do anything. Then they become a list of wishes. Unless you are going to determine steps to make your wishes turn into goals AND you're going to follow through with those steps, you probably should not make New Year's resolutions. Full disclaimer before we completely dive in: I'm not against setting goals. I have always been a goal setter and sometimes even a goal achiever. If you're the same, you may enjoy this audible, or if you're interested in developing and achieving SMART goals try this e-book or this book. Why You Shouldn't Make New Year's Resolutions You'll probably write the same things on a sheet of paper that you did the year before. Some of the common resolutions we've all heard are: Lose weight, exercise, spend less, save more, travel, go to church, and so on and so forth. There's a reason these are common. We hear them (or write them) time and time again andnothing changes. By mid-January, they'll be long forgotten. Maybe even before January 15th, they aren't a thought in our minds. They were good ideas two weeks prior (and the years before that), but that's what they have remainedideas. You didn't think of a route to your destination. Saving money sounds great, but do you know what you're already spending? Do you know what you need to cut and where you'll put that amount? Have you factored in your new gym membership? What will you do with it? Will the autodraft payment that comes out each month help you shed those pounds? What churches are in your area? Do they have programs your family will be interested in? Do you know when the services are? You're overwhelmed. You try to better yourself constantly. Maybe. Let's say some of you try to better yourselves constantly. Which can be a good thing. But it can also be the reason you fail yourselves time and time again. You say yes when you should say no, sign up when you should wait a few more months, and have a list of ten New Year's resolutions when you should focus on two. Why does the author feel we shouldn't make new years resolutions? - we never stick to them - people shouldn't lose weight - we should go to church instead - not enough information
A: we never stick to them