Last week, I spent a good part of my weekend volunteering at a local animal shelter through a group called Community Bucket. I was introduced to this organization through work and was excited for the opportunity to volunteer along with other young people in Atlanta looking to make a positive impact in their free time. 

I recently wrote a post about the organization for my professional position with GA Gives. Rather than duplicate my efforts, I thought I would just share the post with you on here. I only promote things that really get me excited - generally this is Braves baseball or UGA football - so you have my word that this is a cool program. I'll definitely be volunteering with them again soon because it is a great way to meet genuinely good people and my soul always needs more of that. 

Happy National Volunteer Week, y'all.

It must have been fate that led me to PAWS Atlanta this weekend because I had no clue this week was devoted to celebrating volunteerism - but, boy, did I kick it off the right way this Sunday. 

This weekend my friend Cassidy and I were inspired to try something new and meet some new people along the way. And being that we are kind and gentle souls, our adventure was fulfilled through volunteering at a local animal shelter. We went with a bunch of young folks, just like us, through a cool organization called Community Bucket. More on them later. 

First, the pups.

My, oh, my. All of these puppies were after my heart. Each and every one. As soon as I parked my car I could hear their barks and, upon later translation, I discovered they were, in fact, calling out my name. After a little chit-chat with the other dog-loving volunteers (there might have been a cat person around but, for obvious reasons, we had nothing in common), we went to work. The staff member at the shelter threw out a few options for us: organize newspapers to be used in the crates or clean windows or do something I was immediately ineligible for because it required heavy lifting or play with the cats (gross) or walk the dogs.

Crocheting is hard. The patterns can be hard to figure out. You lose count of loops and stitches and rows. The yarn gets in knots every five seconds.

Pinterest isn't much help when it comes to my expectations for hobby-ing. I've rationalized my need to buy more craft paint and yarn based on the idea that these DIY projects are so easy even I can do it. I mean, the blogger said she only had a few years of experience with an electric saw before repurposing that old door into a corner shelf. I'm SURE I can pick it up quickly. I'm a fast learner - just look at my resume!

The truth is, jokes about heavy machinery aside, keeping up a successful hobby is no easy task. It used to be so simple, back in those sweet elementary school days, when eating paste could pass as a normal hobby. It was even easier in high school. Our hobbies were "hanging out with friends" and "watching TV" or "music (not necessarily playing music, mind you, just music)." All acceptable hobbies in teen society, mostly because getting more than a grunting response from a teenager is deemed a success. 

I leave my office in downtown Atlanta around 4:30 p.m. each day and, depending on my timing, I sometimes get caught behind a long line of city buses right by the state capital at 4:42 p.m. It happened today. There I was, happily cruising through the streets, humming along to my favorite string band and tapping the wheel, living like the happy-go-lucky fool in a romantic comedy. Then, just like in those so-called romance tales, I take a left and the plot thickens. My body sinks as I realize the frustration that lies ahead. BUSES - the nemesis of any inner city motorist.

I wait impatiently as the crowds dilly dally their way onto the vehicular kryptonite to my downtown travels. Finally, once everybody is seated and my frustration has run out after missing the green light twice, the bus driver slowly pulls away, giving me the gap to freedom and the freeway. 

This happened a few days in a row one week. Around the third day, I got over my first world problems and turned my attention to the bus passengers. I quickly began to realize that they too had been participating in this roadside ritual all week. 

Then I started recognizing faces.