I sat on the table near the window of the café, held my nose, and poured my sister’s disgusting sour smoothie down my throat. I tried to make a tolerable face and reassure her that it was delicious, but I was having a hard time resisting the urge to puke.
I rejected her request to fill up my glass once again, as I finally lost control and made that threw-up-in-your-mouth-a-little expression. She gave me a scorching look and said, “Why didn’t you just tell me if it was that bad?”
In an effort to avoid her gaze, my eyes fell upon the laptop for the twentieth time. I remembered why I was sitting by the window with my pre-calculus papers attempting to do my math homework. Upon observing my look of agony, my sister looked at the clock and with a putrid grin on her face, informed me I only had 23 hours and 59 minutes to go.
I was on an E-fast; livin’ it up in the slow lane without any e-media for 24 hours. The only fast part of the fast, was when I was asleep. But rather than a new experience, this E-fast was more of a nuisance. I am not an electronic addict, so instead of feeling deprived, I just annoyed my family more than usual.
To my sister’s malicious comment, I replied, “You know what; let me give you my honest opinion about your smoothie. It gives me the same sour, disgusting feeling I get when I wake up every morning and see your face. I didn’t tell you my honest opinion at first because I didn’t want to see your low-self esteem reveal itself.”
In a useless effort to reply to this bomb of words I had just dropped on her, she said with an exasperated look, “Why couldn’t you be on a talking fast instead?” That led me to thinking that a talking fast might be more painful.
Because everyone was aggravated, except me. My family seemed to suffer more than I did. A couple of times I wished I could check my email, but it wasn’t too much of a sacrifice.

I looked up from my messy math paper, and my eyes fell upon the laptop. I imagined myself sign into my email account, and marvel at the word Inbox, feeling cozy and warm as I read my new messages, even though most are usually spam.
All would be well in the world, as I instant messaged my sister and annoyed her at work. These wonderful feelings of computer-ly love were what I was imagining, but reality hit me. I looked at the cold hard text in my pre-calculus book, and then at the clock. Only 15 minutes had passed.
This was the farthest my electronic anguish had gone. For the rest of the day my family yelled at me, an uncommon occurrence in our household. But by the end, I concluded that the e-fast had affected my family more than me.
Being the youngest, I am the most ordered around. “ Throw this away! Wash the dishes! Dry the dishes! Take out the garbage! Get me some chips! Find me a pencil! Go run a mile!” However, these orders aren’t even the most frequent. The one that preoccupies most of my day is...
“Kan! GET THE GODDAMN PHONE!”
I am sure you can imagine my infuriated family’s reaction when this order was shouted at me, and I proclaimed, “E-Fast!” Here is a sample conversation between me, my mom, and my sisters. All in yelling voices:
*Ring* *Ring*
“Kan! Get the phone!”
“E-fast!”
“Godammit, mom can you get it?”
“No! My hands are dirty!”
*Ring*
“Somebody, pick up the phone!”
“Why don’t you pick it up?”
“Why don’t you?”
“Why are you so lazy? Just walk to the phone and pick it up!”
“You do it!”
*Ring*
“No!”
“Yes!”
“No!”
“Just be quiet! I’ll get it. God, why did I have to be blessed with these annoying kids?”
And afterwards:
“God, Kan. This is all your fault. You and your stupid e-fast!”