Here's something you won't give a crap about:

I'm totally not as tall as I thought I was!
This whole time, I've been telling the whole world (or, at least, anyone who asked...which is pretty much nobody, but whatever) that I'm 5 ft 8.
Well, I'm not! I'm not going to get into why I decided to measure myself (because it's kind of totally dorky and embarrassing), but as it turns out...
I'm only 5 ft 7.
5 ft 7? 5 ft 7! So I'm either crazy, illiterate or shrinking. Wait, that's not totally accurate. Let me reword: I'm either crazy and illiterate, or crazy and shrinking. I can't decide which is more likely.
Huh.
However on the plus side, me being shorter increases the likeliness of Wentworth still being taller than me when I wear my highest heels to our wedding. How many inches are in a foot? 10? 12? 12. So he's...6 inches taller than me now!
Wowzer.
Oh just so you all know, yes, I realise this post is completely ludicrous. It's just that I've had 7 cups of coffee and 2 Red Bulls today, and I think typing is the only thing keeping my heart from exploding.
Oh dear.