You Know You're Watching Too Much Torchwood When…

The new puppy, whose name was picked out MONTHS ago after tons and tons of consideration, suddenly becomes "Ianto".

You feel naked without a cup of coffee in your hand.

You find yourself with a bar of dark chocolate in your shopping cart, because it's Myfanawy's favorite.

Suddenly your office seems just a little erotic. (Even though you're not a fetishist.)

You're dying for a black Range Rover no matter how much gas costs.

Red berets make you feel hot, black berets make your chest ache, and the words "Canary Wharf" bring tears to your eyes.

The phrase "Don't forget to empty the bins" makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. (Oh, yeah, that's not Torchwood, that's fan fic. But honestly, the ONLY thing better than actual Torchwood is Helen Pattskyn's fan fic, so if you AREN'T feeling fuzzy when you hear that line, go read her stuff. You're missing out!)

You keep an eye out for Weevils when you're out in the evening.

Your beat up old field hockey stick suddenly has new cache.

You wonder if the oestrogen in the rain is the reason you're not getting pregnant.

(Of course, thinking that Jack and Ianto are the hottest couple on tv ISN'T a sign of Torchwood obsession—it's just recognition of fact.)