I was in a work-commute-collapse cycle and didn’t know what to do. Then I began sampling activities I’d previously dismissed – book clubs, line dancing, chess – and it became oddly addictive
F
or most of my life, I treated taste as fixed. There were things I liked and things I didn’t, and that was that. Hobbies, foods and even social situations were quietly written off with the certainty of personal preference. But sticking to that sentiment had left me in a bit of a rut.
When I moved to London, I threw myself into work: long hours, commuting and networking. In the process, I stopped making time for hobbies or trying anything new.
My housemates were endlessly creative, often heading to unusual theatre shows, dance classes or events I had never considered. Salsa lessons? No thanks. Interactive theatre? Not for me.
