Cleaning up the dining area means getting the fast food bags out of the back
seat of your car.

Your reason for not staying in touch with family is that they do not have
e-mail addresses.

Keeping up with sports entails adding ESPN's homepage to your bookmarks.

You have a "to do list" that includes entries for lunch and bathroom breaks
and they are usually the ones that never get crossed off.

You have actually faxed your Christmas list to your parents.

Pick up lines now include a reference to liquid assets and capital gains.

You consider 2nd day air delivery painfully slow.

You assume the question to valet park or not is rhetorical.

You refer to your dining room table as the flat filing cabinet.

Your idea of being organized is multiple colored post-it notes.

Your grocery list has been on your refrigerator so long some of the products
don't even exist any more.

You lecture the neighborhood kids selling lemonade on ways to improve their
profits.

You get all excited when it's Saturday and you can wear sweats to work.

You refer to the tomatoes grown in your garden as deliverables.

You find you really need PowerPoint to explain what you do for a living.

You normally eat out of vending machines and at the most expensive
restaurant in town within the same week.

You think that "progressing an action plan" and "calendarizing a project"
are acceptable English phrases.

You know the people at the airport hotels better than you know your next
door neighbors.

You ask your friends to "think out of the box" when making Friday night
plans.

You think Einstein would have been more effective had he put his ideas into
a matrix.

You think a "half-day" means leaving at 5 o'clock.

You hear most of your jokes via email instead of in person.