Hating on Facebook doesn’t begin with this column. There are hundreds of clever elegies from the past year foreshadowing the site’s demise. But is it all just white whine? Can we actually quit? And, if so, how else will we be invited to holiday parties?

We certainly don't need the extra drama. The latest Facebook conundrum, for instance, is whether users need to copyright kitten pictures (no) and if Facebookers can still vote on Mark Zuckerberg's proposed changes to the site (no).

Three words: Time-suck hell.

This is not to mention Twitter and Tumblr and Instagram and fantasy sports leagues (yes, plural) and all those other social-network time wasters. It's ridiculous. I even use an online app called Untappd to share what beers I drink, because getting drunk with friends apparently no longer suffices.

Most of us have been online for at least 15 years. And, while I personally am horrible at finding a digital footprint that fits, I'd wager your online boots aren't made for walking just yet, either.

What to do? Well, I quit. For a week. I'm logging off of Facebook.

I tried weaning off it. Like millions others, I'd made the mistake of friending anyone and everyone. I was even “friends” with the Round Table Pizza in Natomas. And while I'm sure that Round Table boasts a zesty salad bar, do we really need to exchange birthday wishes?

So I pruned, then purged Facebook connections. Perfect strangers and pot clubs and people I hadn't seen in years—adiós. Nearly 1,300 so far. Losing friends never felt so good.

But it wasn't enough. The time suck won. And so, just like Thanksgiving leftovers, I'm quitting cold turkey.

Join me on the other side—hopefully with gravy?