input: OPTIONS:
- not enough information
- her two children
- Her husband
- John Now, answer this question: I have never been a stop-and-smell-the-roses type of person. For me, there's always something that has to be done. In fact, the biggest complaint that my husband and two children have about me is that I'm "always busy." Seventeen years ago, when my oldest son was about a year old, he woke up in a very fussy mood. Instead of being his usual cheerful and compliant self, he just wanted to be cuddled. A mother's dream, right? Well, not for me. There was too much to be done; I didn't have time to hold him. I was well aware that in addition to some projects I was working on, there was laundry to be washed and ironed, breakfast dishes to do, a house that needed cleaning. My usual response would have been to try to coax my son into cheerfulness, or to put him back to bed to sleep it off. But it was clear that he was unwell, so against my usual inclination, I decided that I would just hold him. The chores could wait another day. So I settled into the recliner chair in the lounge room and held my son while he slept. I dozed occasionally too, waking up now and then to enjoy the feeling of snuggling my baby and looking at the world beyond the window. It was a cold day, but clear and sunny. The trees rustled in the gentle breeze, and birds and butterflies flitted about the garden. Inside, my son and I stayed snuggled together under a blanket for most of the day. He slept while I, for one of the few times in my life, just drank in the beauty of the world and the happiness of sharing this time with my son. Better mothers than I am must have done similar things many, many times with their children. But for me, this very small decision, this day of 'laziness', became a treasured memory. Question: With whom did the author spend her day of laziness? === The answer to the above question is
A:
output: John

input: OPTIONS:
- Because of her mental illness.
- Because she felt her sense of self slipping away.
- not enough information
- She lost contact with them. Now, answer this question: "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's relationships with her friends from high school end? === The answer to the above question is
A:
output: not enough information

input: OPTIONS:
- not enough information
- Before sending Winston an email.
- After they toured the cemetery.
- Before walking quickly to the Crew's House. Now, answer this question: OLD TOWN - the heart and soul of Key West and the place most visitors spend their time - is only one mile by two. The Crew's house by the cemetery was less than half a mile from where they'd last seen Winston. Walking, it might've taken ten minutes to get there, but on Chloe's Vespa it was a hair-raising three-minute ride away. When they got there, Paul saw no sign of either Winston or Lily, so he assumed they were still inside the rundown shack that passed for a gallery. They parked a block away and approached at a brisk walk, Paul almost jogging to keep up with Chloe's excited strides. Winston was Chloe's mentor in what they referred to as "The Life," this being a euphemism for a whole range of different activities, groups and lifestyles that fell under the general category of living underground and off the information grid. Paul, after defrauding his former partners and then running afoul of the law in a very public way, had been living The Life for almost a year and a half now. Chloe, as near as he could tell, had been doing it for almost a decade. Winston had started in the late '60s as a 16-year-old member of the notorious Weather Underground. He not only led his own Crew, he was also in contact with dozens, maybe scores of other such groups all over the world, including Chloe and Paul's little Crew of four. On top of all that, he'd once taken a couple bullets while helping Paul out, so, like Chloe, Paul had a soft spot in his heart for the old man. They hadn't seen him since that bloody night, but Chloe had been in communication with him off and on over the last sixteen months. Winston and his Crew were old school and didn't trust much in the way of electronic communications. Mostly it had been encoded, hand-delivered letters and arcane classified ads in various newspapers. Chloe found this particular breed of paranoia on Winston's part annoying, but Paul admired it. Question: BWhen Chloe and Paul took a ride on Chloe's Vespa? === The answer to the above question is
A:
output:
Before walking quickly to the Crew's House.