Get 2 Costa Rica

You Know You’re Addicted to Scuba Diving When…

Every morning the sound of shaving foam (psshhhht) makes you want to go diving.
You actually like wearing a full-length wetsuit, hood, gloves, boots, fins, mask, snorkel, buoyancy compensator, compressed air tank, scuba regulator, dive computer, a knife strapped to your inside calf, and 7 kg of lead around your waist.
The local dive shop people recognise you – on the telephone.
You automatically breathe out when you walk up a flight of stairs.
You suddenly discover a fervent interest in attending scientific conferences in the Maldives, Vanuatu, the Red Sea, the Caribbean, Thailand and the Great Barrier Reef.
The value of money is measured by how much dive gear you could buy with it.
No-one asks for your certification card any more.
Fresh air is starting to taste funny.
The most comon word on your credit card bill is DIVE.
Your house always smells of wet neoprene.
You worry that your office elevator is ascending too quickly.
Your dive log is available on Amazon.com.
You’ve stopped logging your dives because it’s easier to just log your surface intervals.
Your “time to fly” is measured in months.
Your picture appears on fish identification tables.
You clear your ears prior to stepping on a down escalator.
You put your left shoe on by dropping it on the ground, standing on the toe of the shoe with your right heel, and forcing your left foot into the shoe.
You take the Tank Visual Inspection course because you own so many tanks it’s cheaper to inspect them yourself than to give $10 per tank to the local shop.
When your kids ask to use your snorkel in the tub.
When your kids say, “Daddy! You haven’t gone diving for a LONG TIME!”
You have more than one triggerfish war wounds.