My path into IT wasn’t something I planned. In a lot of ways, it started long before I ever had a job in technology.

When I was a teenager, my mother worked as an adult educator teaching people how to use computers, both Macs and PCs. She had a remarkable mind for organization and patterns. She could sit at the piano playing classical music, reading sheet music, singing, and never once look down at the keys. Computers were the same way for her. At one point she became very good at coding and scripting, building websites and writing JavaScript programs almost effortlessly.

That environment had a huge influence on me.

I started tearing computers apart and putting them back together as soon as I could get my hands on a few spare parts. What fascinated me most was the idea that you could install an operating system from a disk and start over from nothing. A machine could be completely rebuilt from scratch. That concept stuck with me.

Despite that interest, my early career took a different direction.

In my twenties I became a pattern maker, a skilled trade centered around precision geometry and manufacturing. It was deeply technical work and I enjoyed it, but the industry was slowly changing. CNC machines were beginning to automate more and more of what we did by hand. After about seven years in the trade, I was laid off.

Like a lot of people at that stage of life, I had a mortgage and bills to pay, and things were getting tight.

A good friend of mine helped me out. He said, “This probably isn’t something you’ll want to do, but I can offer it.” The job was in a warehouse loading trucks with hardwood flooring and sweeping the floors. It wasn’t glamorous work, but it was honest work and it kept things moving while I figured out the next step.

Even then, I couldn’t leave technology alone.

Every time something came up that required help from the company’s IT person, it seemed like things stalled. More than once I found myself explaining how to fix the problem or showing how something should be done.

After a couple of months, the company’s VP asked me how I liked the job.

I laughed and told him the truth.

“I’ve been doing complex geometry for the past seven years,” I said. “I hate this job. And as soon as I can leave, it won’t be a day too late.”

Instead of being offended, he loved the response. He asked me what I actually wanted to do.

My answer came pretty naturally: computers had helped automate my previous job, so maybe computers were the direction I should go.

Not long after that conversation, I landed my first official IT role.

Over the next thirteen years I ended up managing nearly all of the IT operations for a small Midwestern flooring company. It was the kind of environment where you learn everything: servers, networking, troubleshooting, deployments, infrastructure, and support, because there is no one else to do it.

Eventually an opportunity opened up that changed the trajectory of my career.

Through a connection I had made during that time, I landed my first corporate IT job. It came with a significant pay increase and, more importantly, the chance to work with people who I still believe are some of the smartest engineers I’ve ever met.

For about six years I worked alongside an IT director and an infrastructure manager who were both extremely hands-on. The infrastructure manager in particular was the kind of mentor every engineer hopes to find: patient, sharp, and willing to teach anyone who genuinely wanted to learn.

And that was me.

I probably arrived a little cocky, but those guys had a way of bringing you back down to earth without discouraging you. One thing my mentor said stuck with me:

“If I had a crystal ball, I could show you how your idea is good, but not long term.”

That period of my career shaped how I think about technology. I moved into roles as a help desk supervisor and support engineer, working on monitoring systems, leading change control processes, and traveling to different sites to help ensure IT delivery.

Then COVID hit.

Like many organizations, our teams shrank and responsibilities grew. My help desk staff was reduced, and eventually it became clear that the workload was not sustainable. I needed to find a better balance between work and life.

That change led me into a more localized IT role where my experience quickly pushed me into broader responsibility. Today I work in infrastructure leadership, balancing tools, skill sets, budgets, personalities, and the constant stream of daily issues that come with running technology at scale.

It’s a strange job sometimes.

I often joke that I don’t know why I punish myself with the workload, but for some reason I enjoy it the way kids enjoy cake.

Somewhere along the way, the challenge itself became the reward.

This is part of why thedigitaldown.com exists: to document the work, the lessons, the projects, and the thinking that come out of a life spent in and around technology.