The APRIL Report
A golden month of pasta-fuelled plans, forgotten reading goals, midweek dinners that saved my soul, and capitalism winning (again).
Where do I even begin with April? I became a woman about town. A full-blown social butterfly. At one point I had plans three nights a week I basically turned my calendar into a pub crawl with pockets of pasta in between. I saw everyone I’ve ever met. It was glorious. It was exhausting. I loved it. And now I’d quite like to lie in a dark room with a cold compress and not speak to anyone until mid-June. The weather was scandalously good one of those rare British Aprils that makes you believe in higher powers so I hiked, I went to the coast, I danced until my eyeliner gave up, and I ate my body weight in bread-based meals. A golden month, truly.
READING
Well, the dream of reading four books this month crumbled faster than my willpower in a Zara sale, but honestly, who cares? We're all supposed to be practicing self-compassion these days, aren’t we? Gentle reminders, soothing mantras, a glass of wine at 8 pm; that sort of thing. I did, however, finish The Hunger Games trilogy (I wrote all my thoughts and feelings if you’re interested). Reading these modern classics, and yes, I will be calling them that because in 300 years students will be writing dissertations titled Katniss: The Girlboss of Panem, as an adult feels essential. Because here’s the thing: it was never just about the games. It was about power, manipulation, and the horrifying way suffering becomes a spectator sport. Rereading it now, in a world that feels increasingly dystopian, it doesn’t feel like fiction. It feels like a mirror.
Elsewhere on the reading front: I flirted with a few books but couldn’t quite commit. April has been very “mood reader” and my mood has been “scrolling aimlessly and eating biscuits,” so not ideal.
Honourable Mentions:
The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes by Suzanne Collins: I thought I’d fall straight into this after the trilogy but...it’s giving... different. Should I slog on or just audiobook it with a slightly guilty conscience?
Sociopath: A Memoir by Patric Gagne: so fascinating, so clever, so large in my handbag. I do 90% of my reading squashed into a tube seat the size of a postage stamp and hardbacks are not made for that kind of warfare. Paperback loyalist forever.
The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald: Listening to Leslie Odom Jr. narrate it should feel like being handed caviar on a silver platter, and yet somehow it's taking me days to get through. Meanwhile, I can listen to New Money from the Gatsby musical on repeat without blinking. Brains are weird.
Currently, I’m reading Great Big Beautiful Life by Emily Henry (because obviously) but, I’m hoarding my thoughts for next month’s emotional dissection.
EATING
I have officially entered my Sociable Midweek Dinner Era. Every Tuesday and Wednesday evening, I’ve been gallivanting off to meet friends for meals that range from Michelin-starred levels of mediocrity to full-blown culinary miracles, and it hasn’t mattered one bit. Because the real treat has been the company: the laughing until you cry kind, the 'tell me your childhood trauma over a halloumi wrap' kind. Even a soggy Nando’s is elevated to Michelin levels if you’re with people who feel like home.
PLAYING
Please, I am begging you to watch The Studio on Apple TV. Seth Rogen clearly gets it. This show is like therapy for anyone who’s ever worked in Film & TV less “haha funny” and more “oh god I’ve had that exact meltdown in a stairwell” funny. You know how The Bear makes hospitality people break into a sweat because it hits a little too close to home? The Studio is that for production people. It’s gloriously shot, has a cast list that feels like someone emptied a sack of American celebrities onto the floor, and it’s actually, brace yourself, well written. More importantly, it validates my existence. Every panic, every pointless meeting, every last-minute catastrophe. I feel seen.
Also, in a completely different emotional universe: I watched The Stolen Girl Thriller on Disney+. Yes, it’s five hours long. Yes, I watched it in one sitting on a Friday night. No, we don’t need to unpack what that says about my social life. It was silly, twisty, a bit rushed but, I had a great time. The Guardian said you’ll forget it five seconds after it ends and, honestly, that’s exactly its charm. Plus, I’d watch Ambika Mod read the back of a shampoo bottle.
OBSESSING
This month’s obsession? Being outside, like properly outside, limbs moving, lungs full, face tilted toward the sky, either hiking with friends or perched by the sea with family. There’s something deeply restorative about it, like the kind of therapy you don’t have to book or pay for. Long walks up hills where the only agenda is gossip and snacks at the summit. Or lazy hours by the sea, where time softens, phones stay buried in bags, and conversations drift between silly and profound like waves on the shore. It’s not just fresh air; it’s clarity, connection, and the kind of quiet joy that lingers long after your shoes are muddy and your cheeks are sun-kissed. Total obsession. No notes.
RECOMMENDING
This might be a repeat of EATING but there’s something quietly magical about a midweek dinner date with friends, a small act of rebellion against the grey, grinding machinery of adulthood. In the middle of emails, laundry, and looming deadlines, you slip away to a table littered with half-finished glasses of wine, stories tumbling out between mouthfuls of pasta. It’s a reminder that life isn’t just about getting through the week; it’s about grabbing it, laughing in its face, and saying, “Not tonight, responsibility.” These evenings stitch tiny golden threads through the patchwork of our routines, proof that joy doesn’t need grand plans or weekends away. It only needs an hour or two, a friend who gets it, and a plate of something delicious.
TREATING
This section could alternatively be titled Capitalism: 1, Me: 0. I have treated myself within an inch of my bank account’s life. Shopping with my sister and mum, two of the world's most persuasive enablers, led to new running trainers (I do not run, but I do have hopes), a complete skincare overhaul because everything ran out at once (obviously), and a winter coat bought while standing in 25-degree sunshine. Somewhere, a finance bro is shaking his head in disappointment at me.
What are your goals for May? What is your REPORT? Please let me know
About Twenty Five Reset
Hi, I’m Niamh, and everyone was right 25 really is a turning point. I finally know who I am, what I want, and my purpose… but it’s nothing like I expected.
I work in TV, but it doesn’t define me. This space is my reset embracing the mess, reflecting, and creating again. You can expect:
Pop Culture and a lot of chats about 2000 - 2020 TV Shows
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