You make detours to kitchen & home shops “just to check the prices of the containers”.

Slowly everything you own is being turned into a cache container or a trackable item.

Family members keep wondering where their favourite keyring/soft toy/trinket has gone...

When someone asks where you live you give the location in degrees minutes and seconds coordinates.

Scrabbling around under a bush in some mud, in howling wind and rain seems like a perfectly normal and rational thing to do.

You’d happily leave the comfort of your nice warm bed at 4 a.m. on a Sunday just to try and get a FTF.

Going a week without being able to do a caching trip makes you grumpy and irritable.

When out with friends you find yourself compulsively pointing out good places for a hide.