I've been diagnosed as being afflicted with Social Networking Fatigue Syndrome by a friend who has been subtly trying to wean me off the phenomenon for a while now. I met him, where else, on a social networking site. And while he outgrew it a long time back, he's been watching my addiction with resigned amusement for months. He's too nice to say ‘I told you so' but now that I've sheepishly confessed I'm sick of social networking, there has to be a triumphant glint in his eyes. Well, I wouldn't really know - I've never seen him for real!

Here are some signs that you may be suffering from SNFS:

· You no longer log into orkut (or Facebook, or whatever is your network of choice, or compulsion) ten minutes after you wake up every morning.

· When you do, you stare at your home page for a while, not really sure what you're doing there or where you want to go.

· The knowledge that you've gained another unknown fan overnight doesn't send you into a girlish tizzy.

· You have a Eureka moment and the voice in your head says, "Grow up girl, your fan days ended about two decades ago!"

· You actually listen to the voice in your head.

· You survey your scraps or wall posts or whatever your ‘friends' use to connect with you in a desultory fashion and realise that you've finally run out of novel ways to say ‘Have a nice day'!

· You make the time to brew a real cup of coffee instead of chuckling over the virtual Margarita someone has just sent you.

· You realise you care that the mounting number of virtual drinks on your page is making you seem like a lush!

· You finally figure out that leaving silly comments on someone's photograph is not funny; ok, they look stupid with that flowerpot on the head but everyone has bad days, right?

· Privacy isn't just another word anymore, it's something you long for, especially when you log into your mail account and are bombarded with cheery hellos in rapidly mushrooming chat windows by people you've added to your friend list five minutes ago.

· You realise that people can't send you virtual good karma - you have to live it out for yourself, never mind that it's simpler to click the ‘accept' button.

· Ditto with happiness, joy and world peace.

· It occurs to you that if you're that bored you could read a book instead of snooping into other people's scrapbooks, riveting though they may be.

· You pick up the phone and actually talk to your childhood pals, the same ones who cried with you when you were sad, and giggled with you over things that seemed so funny back then. A virtual hug isn't the same, really.

· Your family starts saying, "What, logging out already," instead of "Still there?"

· Yes, you've been terribly anti-social for months now, and it's finally penetrated your thick skull that there's more to life than unseen friends across the globe who can delete you from their lists and lives with one uncaring click.

Like me, you probably need help.