Blogger Flagged Me For Sensitive Content

I’ve blogged for 23 years—23!—and I’ve never gotten a warning.
I write about sitting in a cold house in my nightgown, dripping wet from a shower, and Blogger perks up and assumes I’m porn.
Good Lord Almighty, if you get turned on by a 55-year-old fat granny, that’s on you.

Ad*ic*ed? To coffee?!
Seriously?

Guess what?

All my posts are going down, and I will take a lice comb and pretend the words are lice. 
I’ll scrape every sentence until nothing jars poor Blogger’s sensitive little algorithmic soul.
You want sterile? 
You want safe? 
Fine. 
I’ll write like I’m describing drywall.

“Today I sat. Then I stood. Then I ate food. It was food-shaped.”

Is that bland enough for you, Google?

I’ve written through grief, through surgeries, through mold infestations and dog drama and the kind of exhaustion that makes your bones hum—and now, because I dared to mention a nightgown and a shower in the same sentence, I’m flagged like I’m running a brothel out of my blogspot.

I’m not your content risk. 
I’m your legacy.

So go ahead. 
Yank my posts.
 I’ve got backups. 
I’ve got 23 years of proof they were never a problem. 

And I’ve got 23 years of readers who know the difference between a diary and one of those dirty magazines you hide under the mattress.

You want war over a wet nightgown? 
Buckle up.