You know you’re a telecom installer when all the wires on your computer and entertainment system have been neatly secured to the side of the desk with wax string.
Even worse if you have made wire forms to bridge any gaps between tie downs.
Way worse if you used a cable needle to do it.
Do you know how many people I work with (including me) you just described? My entertainment system at home doesn’t just have all the wires secured, but both ends of every wire is labeled. I have even seen a few odd pieces of fiber duct around the office and thought, “You know if that is still here Friday afternoon, that’s coming home with me.”
You know you are a commissioning engineer if when talking on the phone you end sentences with “over” and instead of “goodbye” you end with “over and out”.
You know you’re an English major if an innocent comment about a tv show and authorial intent can launch a 30 minute diatribe about deconstructionism and new criticisim.
You really know this when your vacation money goes to vet bills and feed. 
Or when you can think about cleaning out a sheath without gagging.
You know you are an economist when you go into a singles bar and use as a pickup line “I’m an economist, and this looks like a marketplace to me.” (Not me, but a friend.)
You know you’re an excessive SDMB reader when you dream in posts, including cites.
And you know you’re working too hard at any office job when you do that at home.
You know you’ve worked in Family Court for too long when you giggle out loud when a litigant calls up in a panic because he’s a florist whose child support violation case is scheduled for Valentine’s Day.
Pathetic, but true.
You know you’re a nerd when you read the quote above and laughed.
Please explain these things. What does the tilde mean in this context?
The movie The Professional has a main character, a professional assasin, named Leon.
the tilde means, in mathematical terms, “approximately equal to”
you know you’re in telecom when you actually pay attention to how loaded the pole lines are around your house.
You know that that your mother was a high school English teacher when she is reading a note that came home from your Junior High English teacher, and mom grabs her red pen to correct the spelling, grammar, and punctuation errors in said note. Then she adds a sarcastic comment on your teacher’s writing skills and sends it back the next day. That my friends is a true English teacher.
True story. God I wish I had saved that note.
Love you mom, I miss you every day.
You know you’re a gymnastics coach when you are serious when you say “drop and give me 20!”
You know you’re a gymnastics coach when everyone looks at you in horror when you tell them how many push-ups a six year old in your class can do.
You know you’re a gymnastics coach if whenever you see a kid you assess them on the spot for potential gymnastic ability.
You know you’re a gymnastics coach when you actually look forward to going to work. 
You know you’re an astronomer when 10[sup]7[/sup] years is considered “short”.
You know when you’re an astronomer when you go on an all expenses paid trip to Hawaii and don’t come back with a tan.
You know you’re a forensic scientist when …
… you’re on a hot date and all you can think about is his radial-loop pinky finger
… you quite seriously offer to take apart someone’s car to find that lost 10-cent piece
… you see a strange stain on the floor, and start stringing up your own kitchen to determine its point of origin
You know you’ve been programming in assembly language too long when you wake up at 1:11 in the morning, look at the clock and yell “Oh, my God, it’s seven o’clock, I’m going to be late for work!” (upon which your wife quite rightly beats on you for waking her up) (this actually happened)
And labelled! I love it! I kept meaning to accidentally borrow some zip-tie labels from work for that reason, but never got around to it.
Fish paper at the corners of the desk too? (Guilty)
I do the same thing when I read court decisions at work. You’d be amazed at the number of judges who don’t understand comma splices.
You know you’re a legal editor when the other Dopers are laughing about a recently filed complaint and all you can think is “Ooo! Front page story for my newsletter!” (Sad, but true.)
You know you’re a journalist when, in any given conversation online or in person, someone makes a statement of opinion and you try and figure out how they confirmed it.
About the control-F thing: I have often wished I could do that, because it would save me so much time. Sometimes I consider googling an item I cannot find in my room.
You know you’re a baker when other people go “Ten dozen cookies! That’s a lot!” and you just go “meh”