“Picture a Scotsman roaming the countryside, kilt flapping in the wind, bagpipes echoing in the hills. That’s not me, but it’s good to get your imagination started. Instead, picture gym shorts and two golden labradors. Let’s go.”

Hi there! I’m here looking for friendships—someone to chat about life’s absurdities with. Let’s face it, good conversations these days are as rare as getting through Christmas without loosening your belt a notch (or two).

Lately, I’ve been reflecting on how much conversations have changed over the years. Back then, chats with friends felt endless, often leading to spontaneous nights out. Now, life’s pace has slowed, yet keeping those connections alive seems harder than ever. My close friends are still around, but between careers, families, and the chaos of adulting, the chat windows are shorter and fewer. So here I am, casting the net for new conversations and fresh perspectives.

Anyway, some context! I’m a 39-year-old physical education teacher, happily living in the Scottish countryside. The scenery here is breathtaking, the air is as crisp as it is cold, and my two golden labradors make every day an adventure. They’re far better behaved than most kids but, like them, just need to be let outside to run around, chase a ball, or carry a stick for a bit before they calm down again.

Workdays for me involve trying to convince young minds that fitness isn’t their mortal enemy—while staying active enough to avoid becoming the stereotypical PE teacher who can’t demonstrate the drills. You know the type: barking orders like a drill sergeant but conveniently never breaking a sweat. That’s not me—at least, I like to think so. Most days. Probably.

Outside work, I’ve rekindled my love of exercise. After stepping away from competitive team sports a few years ago, I had a brief falling out with the gym. But we’re on again now. It’s an ongoing saga of determination versus the siren call of Christmas treats gifted by pupils. Unfortunately, my gym’s decided to close over the holidays—because why wouldn’t it shut during the most calorific fortnight of the year? Cue me sighing dramatically as I watch my waistband slowly betray me.

When I’m not trying to outpace my metabolism, I’m rambling around the countryside with my labradors. We live on a farm, so our walks are blissfully free of people—just us, the open fields, and the occasional sheep giving us a side-eye. The cows, however, are endlessly curious and love a good stare-off at the gate. Their enthusiasm never fails to amuse, though it’s a bit disconcerting when they outnumber us.

Like most people, I have a complicated relationship with my TV. I’ll happily binge a great crime drama or park myself on the couch for a football match (and yes, I mean real football—the kind where feet actually meet balls). I’m also a writer—a creative outlet that lets me wrangle my wandering thoughts into something hopefully enjoyable. I’m working on my second book at the moment. Is it Dickens? No. Shakespeare? Definitely easier to read. But it’s mine, and that’s what matters.

So, why am I here? To meet people who enjoy swapping stories, diving into the occasional existential dilemma, or just laughing at the ridiculousness of adulthood. I’ve posted here twice before with mixed success, but hey, third time’s a charm, right?

If any of this sounds remotely relatable, feel free to reach out.

Oh, and for anyone who’s made it this far, congratulations—you’ve unlocked unlimited dog photos. Because let’s be honest, life is just better with dogs. But fair warning: mine aren’t just for Christmas—they’re a full-time lifestyle choice.