Hey, I'm Jacob

I didn't start programming because I wanted to be a "developer." I started because life kept handing me problems that no one else was going to solve for me.

Tools were slow. Processes were messy. Work was harder than it needed to be. And somewhere along the way, I realized: If I could build something better, I should.

My technical journey began with frustration — not inspiration. Simple scripts. Automation hacks. Quick fixes to problems that felt bigger than they should've been. But those tiny wins added up, and I kept pushing further, teaching myself piece by piece through docs, mistakes, and late-night experiments that lasted far longer than they should have.

That process changed me. It taught me how to handle things outside of code too: pressure, setbacks, uncertainty, and the weight of figuring life out as I go.

Over time, the projects grew. Time clocks that people rely on every day. Dashboards that turn chaos into clarity. Honeypots that expose patterns most people never notice. Games, tools, interfaces — each one a piece of me, built from trial, error, and stubborn determination.

But underneath the tech, there's something deeper: I build because it gives me control in a world that often feels unpredictable. I build because structure brings peace. Because turning a real-world mess into a clean system reminds me that problems can be solved. Because every tool I create makes someone's life — including mine — a little easier, a little more understandable.

I don't chase perfection. I chase improvement — something real, something practical, something that works.

When I'm not shaping systems, I'm exploring new ideas, tinkering, experimenting, creating things that probably didn't need to exist but somehow make life better.