You know you're a musician when...

You have a well-stocked closet of black clothing.  And, if your regular gig requires it, a second-hand black suit jacket to create the illusion of a tuxedo.  Because, you know, you're a broke musician who can't afford a real suit jacket.

You only know the first bit of a song, because then you have to start playing and can't pay attention to the lyrics.

You see the word "beetle" and have to remind yourself that there is also an insect with that name, and it is not spelled wrong.

You are familiar with the back entrances of venues and bars all over town.  You only occasionally get to see the lobby, and even then it's only to pickup a copy of the program.

You know every possible version of Brown Eyed Girl.  You also know that most drunken "guest" singers really don't know the words...but they think they do!

You can point out the girls (or guys) in the bar who are most likely to try to play one of the instruments on stage or try to sing into the microphone.

You keep music stands, horn stands, and stand lights in your car.  Just in case.

You know what "circle of fifths/fourths" means.

You know the difference between valve oil and rotor oil.  And the difference between valves and rotors.

When attending concerts, you watch for things like hand positions and fingerings and listen for intonation and articulation.  Also, you start counting, through shear habit, when the orchestra starts to play.  Only about 8 measures in do you realize that you can just relax and listen this time.

You can't go see your friends' bands because you've got a gig that night.

You know all of the "fast, cheap, quick" repairs for on-the-job breakdowns.

You've continued a performance through a power outage or blackout.  The show must go on, dammit!

What did I miss?