By Jessica Marati
11:40 p.m. – I add up all the hours I spent on Facebook today. It makes me mildly sick to my stomach. I had projects to finish, articles to write, deadlines! Social networking has become a serious blow to my productivity.
11:46 p.m. – I just had a crazy idea. What if I were to give it all up? Just for a day, as an experiment, a test of my willpower, an exercise in discipline. I decide to take the plunge.
11:52 p.m. – In true form, I change my status to “Facebook hiatus… and GO!”
11:57 p.m. – Watching “Evita.” I’m compelled to mention something about it on my profile, something witty that combines my excitement about moving to Buenos Aires with the fact that I’m watching a kitschy ‘90s musical. A status update would be too obvious. Maybe I’ll post a music video?
11:58 p.m. – This is sick. I have a problem.
12:01 a.m. – I already have two status comments. One: “I don’t believe.” Further confirmation that this “break” is a good idea.
12:03 a.m. – “Don’t cry for me, Argentina!” Scratch kitschy. Insert fabulous.
12:11 a.m. – Inspired, I decide to do some wiki-research on the history of populism in Argentina. For some reason, I feel the need to broadcast this information. I’m getting jittery. Christ, quitting Facebook is harder than quitting smoking.
12:15 a.m. – Thank god for Twitter.
12:38 a.m. – Dear Facebook, Hey there. How are you? I am fine. I have to be honest with you about something. I’m no longer happy with this relationship. I miss the days when it was just me and you and the Ivy League. Before status updates. Before applications. Before pirates and vampires and superhugs. Things were simple. WE were simple. Then you had to go changing on me. Expanding the network. Switching formats. Dammit, Facebook, we had a good thing going! Now you have me all confused. What I’m trying to say is, I need a break. I’m not saying it’s over; I just need some time to think things over. I’ll log on soon, okay? Love, Jessica
8:13 a.m. – Well good morning. I’m going through my daily routine: e-mail, job boards, New York Times. But something’s missing. I click aimlessly through my toolbar links.
8:45 a.m. – Went running, listened to Spanish podcasts, mused about how technology is slowly destroying the simplicity of human interaction.
12:02 p.m. – Working at the office, where I usually don’t log onto Facebook much. Receive e-mail notification of a comment that I feel necessitates a response. Instead, I text.
2:10 p.m. – Back at home and restless. I think my recent FB obsession is stemming from loneliness. I’ve found myself feeling completely socially deficient lately, which I guess is to be expected. I’m living at home for the first time in years; I work independently, often in my sweats at the dinner table; and while I’m slowly making new friends, I’m not quite at the point where I can call on them any time. Plus, they have real jobs and real lives. I’m just passing through. So I reach out into the Internet sphere for companionship. I read status updates. I make witty comments on friends’ profiles. I cyberstalk old, current and potential flames. I click through photo albums of people I haven’t seen since high school. I click through my own photo albums, reliving happy memories and deleting photos where I look fat. I don’t poke, though… unless someone pokes me, in which case it’s just rude not to poke back.
4:08 p.m. – Just had a strong urge to log on. I almost forgot about my hiatus, but I stopped myself just in time. Whew! That was scary.
5:03 p.m. – So far, so good.
7:35 p.m. – Kicked ass at yoga today. I think my mind is clearer from the absence of technology. That, or I just had a lot of issues to work out.
7:38 p.m. – A little more than four hours to go. I’m kind of liking this. Less obsessing. More free time. I might extend this little experiment.
9:59 p.m. – Online again and my resolve is breaking. I am shutting off this computer right now and reading a book.
11:52 p.m. – Sleeping.
6:42 a.m. – I wake up. I missed the big 24-hour mark. I log on. There are some fun photos from a fellowship retreat in Africa. One friend decided to get a tattoo. Another friend is celebrating good news at her magazine job. Six friends continue to express displeasure at the new Facebook. Eight friends are now fans of “Doug.” I didn’t miss much.
