For once, it isn’t even 7 PM, and I’m sitting down to write this.
Normally, these blog posts are born somewhere in the twilight hours — that hazy space where productivity and stubbornness blur together, and I convince myself that one more hour is a sensible idea. Tonight feels different. I’m at my desk at home in Morley, laptop open, having a calm conversation instead of burning the candle at both ends. It’s a small shift, but it feels like progress.
Today was a familiar mix of worlds. I spent time working on the Bia Electric website, shaping tools and ideas that feel increasingly tangible. Alongside that, I was deep in conversations at Levelise, talking with electricians about the very real, very practical problems they’re facing day to day. Those conversations always ground me — they’re a reminder that good software and good engineering both start with listening.
One of the highlights, though, was meeting up with my old friend Alan of Dines Installations. That’s where a lot of this journey began. Working with Alan means doing some of the best installations in the country — work I’m genuinely proud of. There’s a satisfaction in craftsmanship at that level that’s hard to replicate anywhere else.
But, as ever, it comes with trade-offs. Lots of time away from home. Too many takeaways. Hotel rooms. A version of myself that’s probably getting fatter rather than fitter. Which brings me to the mood of the evening.
I feel positive. Curious. Thoughtful.
I keep circling the same question: what role should I be in by 2026?
Is Bia Electric ready to pay me a sensible salary by January? Probably not — at least not yet. Do I stick with Levelise a little longer, riding the swings and roundabouts of something that’s broadly working? Or do I lean back into installation work with Alan, accepting the lifestyle costs because the work itself is so rewarding?
Right now, the status quo is… fine. And that’s both comforting and slightly unsettling.
One technical thought from yesterday has stuck with me, though.
In a meeting with myenergi, it became clear — again — how many people struggle with the idea of directionality in CT clamps. And honestly, that’s reassuring. When AC current is alternating, and voltage and current are both oscillating, it’s not immediately intuitive why power has direction at all. RMS current on its own isn’t directional — so how does real power end up being so?
The answer, of course, lives in phase relationships, voltage reference, and power factor — but that doesn’t make it obvious. It took me a long time to truly internalise it, so seeing smart, engaged people wrestle with the same concept feels oddly comforting.
It’s also sparked an idea.
I’d love to build a small interactive tool on the website — something simple, with sliders — that lets people see how voltage, current, phase angle, RMS values, and power factor interact. Not a lecture. Not a textbook. Just something you can play with until it clicks.
Because sometimes understanding doesn’t come from being told — it comes from nudging a slider and watching the maths behave.
And maybe that’s the quiet theme of today: fewer late nights, more clarity, and small tools that make complex things feel human.
