We Drove North and I Left the Building Behind

We left before the city woke up.

I'd set the out-of-office, handed off anything urgent to the on-call line, and told my maintenance guy where things stood before I left Friday afternoon. The sump pump situation from the previous week was still fresh in my head. There was a work order I hadn't fully closed. My brain was already running the checklist of things that could go sideways while I was gone.

My wife was in the passenger seat, coffee in hand, watching me drive in silence for the first twenty minutes.

She knows this version of me. The one who's left the building physically but hasn't quite left it mentally. She didn't say anything. She just waited.

Somewhere around Barrie, I finally stopped narrating the week in my head and started actually looking at the road.

Why Getting Out of the City Matters More Than I Used to Admit

I used to be the guy who took pride in never fully disconnecting. Kept the phone close. Answered things on weekends. Told myself it was because I cared about the building, which was true, but it was also a habit, and not a good one.

Building work is never fully done. There's always a work order in progress, a vendor waiting on parts, a tenant follow-up I meant to get to. If I waited for a clean moment to take time off, I'd never go. The building would always have something going on. That's just what buildings are.

At some point, I had to accept that taking time off isn't irresponsible. It's part of doing the job well long term. You can't run a tight building if you're running on empty. I've watched people burn out in this work. It's quiet and then it's sudden and then they're gone.

The Fine Line Between Compassion and Burnout in Working as a Building Superintendent

My wife has been patient with my schedule for years. The early morning calls, the late Friday surprises, the weekends where I get pulled back in mentally even when I'm physically home. She doesn't complain much. But I notice when she lights up the moment the city disappears in the rearview mirror, and I take that seriously.

Somewhere Past Huntsville, the Building Finally Left Me Alone

We drove up through Muskoka and kept going. No specific destination locked in, which is unusual for me. I'm a systems guy by instinct, I like knowing the plan. But my wife suggested we just drive until something looked good, and I went with it.

We found a spot near a provincial park. Set up the tent while it was still light. Made a fire. Cooked something simple over it.

I didn't check the work order system. I didn't check my email. My maintenance guy had the on-call number if something real came up, and I knew he'd use it if he had to. That trust matters. I've spent time building it deliberately, and moments like this are when it actually pays off. If I'd never invested in making sure he knew how to handle things in my absence, I'd never actually be able to leave.

The night was cold enough that I was glad we'd brought the right sleeping bags. We lay there listening to the bush settle and I genuinely did not think about the building once.

That's rare for me. I'll take it.

What I Came Back With

I'm not going to dress this up like a big revelation. I didn't come back with some new perspective on building operations or a reinvented approach to work-life balance. I came back rested, which is honestly enough.

I came back and the building was fine. My maintenance guy handled a minor hallway lighting issue while I was gone. It was documented, dealt with, and in the system by the time I logged back in Monday morning. No drama. No calls. The custodian had kept the common areas in good shape over the weekend, same as always.

Some of the work orders I left behind were still there waiting for me. Of course they were. But I sat down at my desk Monday morning and actually had the energy to work through them instead of staring at the screen like I'd been doing the week before.

Sometimes that's the whole point. You're not escaping responsibility. You're making sure you can still meet it when you come back.

My wife is already talking about the next trip. She wants to go further north. I told her I'm in, as long as we leave before the city wakes up again.