You know you're from Washington, D.C., when...

Your blood pressure skyrockets when tourists are standing immobile on the left side of the escalator.

You would rather suffer heatstroke than drink the city water.

You never refer to your boss by their name, just as a title preceded by "the" (The Secretary, The Senator, The Partner).

You find yourself saying, "But it's only $1.5 billion."

People just call the city "D.C."

Everyone calls the 10 inches of snow last year "The Great Blizzard."

All the people on the city board know the mayor from their time together in prison.

There are 15 main ways out of the city onto the highway but no signs to say where these are.

Drivers pick up strangers at bus stops so that they can drive in the H.O.V. lanes during rush hour.

You spend two hours to find a parking space and it's for "one hour only."

The road you are on is suddenly interrupted by a building.

People give different directions to get to the same destination depending on the day you are going there.

The weatherman declares the weather is suddenly a cool 89 degrees with only 90 percent humidity and you are happy.

Diplomatic license plates bring on anxiety attacks.

The weatherman calls for two inches of snow, you have to rush to the grocery store to buy diapers, milk, bread, and toilet paper, and you don't even have a baby.

You watch the world/national news to find out what to do this weekend.

You race for the elevator.

You dream of moving to the suburbs only to look out the window of your $300,000 house directly into your neighbor's window, four feet away.

Nobody you know actually makes anything.

All of your friends are either lawyers, computer people, workers for some government abbreviation (i.e., IRS, DOD, DOI, etc.), workers "for the Pentagon" or "on the Hill" or "for the White House" (i.e., they work for a location, not a person).

Knowing somebody who can get you into an embassy, the White House, or congressional party is a status symbol.

People talk in acronyms and actually understand each other.

When you ask someone what they do for a living they respond, "I would tell you but then I'd have to kill you" -- and they're serious.

When you hit a softball and it bounces off the Washington Monument, it isn't vandalism; it's a ground-rule double.

No one you know is actually from there.

You think $8 is pretty reasonable for a beer.

You get dressed up to go to a Social Safeway for your groceries.

Because the Metro stops running at midnight, you have to rush out of the office to catch the last train home.