Special Guest Blogger: Norse Goddess Frigg

Is it just me, or is eternity getting a bit long?
I know, I know. I’m the Queen. I’m the All-Mother. I’m the one who knows everyone’s destiny but keeps her mouth shut because, frankly, spoilers are rude. But looking back over the last few millennia, I’ve started to wonder if I’m being remembered for the right things. Or if I’m even being remembered as me.
First of all, if I hear one more mortal confuse me with Freyja, I am going to lose my divine mind.
I get it. We’re both blonde-ish. We both like gold. We both have names that start with 'Fr' but Freyja has a chariot pulled by cats. Cats. Have you ever tried to get a cat to go where you want it to? It’s a logistical nightmare. I, on the other hand, run the most powerful realm in the nine worlds while my
husband is out hanging off trees and trading his eyes for a sip of water.
Freyja is the goddess of love, beauty, and... well, fun whereas I'm the goddess of marriage, wisdom, and keeping the household from burning down.
She’s the party girl and i’m the one who makes sure there’s a designated Valkyrie to fly everyone home. My legacy shouldn’t just be the sensible one. I have a sense of humor! I once tricked Odin into helping the wrong army just to prove a point. That’s top-tier wifely trolling right there.
My biggest claim to fame is Frigedæg, Freitag or Friday. It’s my day and what have you humans done with it?
You’ve turned it into a day where you stop doing your jobs at 2:00 PM, eat greasy appetizers at a chain restaurant, stay up late and drink in the pub but do you think you’re thanking me? No. You’re thanking the concept of not being at work.
I wanted Friday to be a day of sacred oaths and weaving the fabric of society. Instead, it’s the day people get too drunk on margaritas and text their exes. It’s a bit insulting, really. I’m the goddess of the home, and most of you spend Friday night trying to find any reason not to be at home.
If I had known my name would be synonymous with Casual Fridays I would have lobbied for Tuesday. Tyr doesn't do anything on Tuesdays anyway. He just sits around and sighs all the time.
Then there’s my husband, Odin. Want to know the secret to a marriage that lasts several thousand years? Separate bedrooms and a very high tolerance for ravens, Huginn and Muninn,  hanging around the rafters, eavesdropping on my conversations with the Valkyries.
His legacy is all wisdom, poetry and war whereas mine is being the woman who actually knew what was going on while he was off on a five-year quest.
Do you have any idea how hard it is to maintain a royal household when your husband keeps inviting every stray warrior who dies in battle to come live in your guest house? Valhalla is a nightmare for the plumbing.
Odin thinks he’s the master of secrets, but I’m the one who knows how to keep them. I know the fate of every soul, but I don’t go around shouting about it to look edgy. That’s the difference. He wants the glory and I just want the realm to stay in one piece while he’s out.
When it came ot my son, Baldur, I did what any mother would do. I went to every fire, every water, every iron, every stone, and every infectious disease and said, 'Hey, don't hurt my boy' and they all agreed! It was a masterpiece of administrative genius but I missed the mistletoe but in my
defense, when i realised i thought what’s that floppy little thing going to do?
Turns out, if you give a blind god a mistletoe arrow and let Loki whisper in his ear, it can do quite a lot.
People often depict me with a spinning wheel but i'm not making socks for the gods with it, i'm weaving the very fabric of reality and if I drop a stitch, a star goes out. If I change the tension, a kingdom falls. It’s a high-stakes job with zero vacation time. But does it get the same respect as Thor’s hammer?
No. Thor hits a giant with a mallet, and everyone writes a poem. I prevent the universe from unraveling at the seams, and people ask if I can hem their trousers.
If you want to celebrate me, you don’t need to sacrifice a goat or a virgin. Just enjoy your Friday. Drink something nice, stay home if you want to, and for the love of the Aesir, check your yard for mistletoe and try not to cause Ragnarok before Monday.