So… I may have accidentally invaded Asgard. Oops.

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Dear Diary,

Look, I’ve had weird days before. Therapy sessions with unhinged gods, villains, and mythological disasters? Normal. But today? Today, I somehow ended up in freaking Asgard.

Let me explain.

I was on a well-deserved break—feet up, sipping coffee, pretending my clients don’t exist—when Loki burst into my office like it was his personal dressing room. (Rude.)

“Ah, Doctor,” he purred, leaning against my desk like he owned it. “Tell me, do you ever get tired of playing therapist to lost souls?”

I raised a brow. “Do you ever get tired of breaking into my office uninvited?”

“Touche.”

Now, Loki being Loki, he wasn’t actually here for therapy. No, he was here to annoy me. He poked around my office, rifled through my papers, made himself comfortable in my chair. Standard Loki behavior. Then, just as suddenly, he grabbed my notebook (yes, my notebook, the one with client notes, doodles, and random grocery lists) and, with a smug little smirk, walked right out the door.

I didn’t think. I just reacted.

I stormed after him, shouting, “Loki, give that back, you absolute menace!”

Except—the second I stepped through the door… something was off.

First of all, the air felt different. Thicker, richer. The sky wasn’t the usual dull gray of NYC—it was a deep, impossible gold. And the buildings? Grand, glowing, ancient. This wasn’t my street. This wasn’t even Earth.

“Oh,” I muttered, my brain short-circuiting. “Oh, no.”

I turned slowly, carefully—and there it was. The Bifrost.

The actual, mythical, rainbow bridge of legend.

I stared at it. It stared back.

"Okay,” I exhaled. “So I just followed Loki to Asgard. No big deal. Just trapped in a land of gods, warriors, and probably a hundred different ways to die.”

And, of course—Loki was nowhere to be found.

Great.

This is fine. Everything is fine.

Next step: Try not to die.

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Session Notes:

1. Client: Loki, self-proclaimed “God of Mischief,” also “God of Stealing My Stuff.”

2. Issue: Chronic chaos addiction. Also, possible kleptomania.

3. Plan: None, because I’M IN  FREAKING ASGARD.

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Diary, if I don’t make it back… tell my landlord I still don’t have the rent.