I once missed my child’s school assembly. Not because I forgot, not because I didn’t care, but because it was in the wrong calendar. A separate, tidy little stream marked “family,” which I used to keep work and life distinct. 

It didn’t work. Post pandemic everything: work, life, kids, launch planning, dentist appointments, now goes into one calendar. Because that calendar is my source of truth. My husband and I have a saying “If it’s not in the calendar, it’s not happening”. 

And yet, even after this lesson, one thing still wasn’t making it onto my calendar: the actual work. 

My calendar is lying to you 

My calendar makes me look available when I’m not. I’m very much working. I’m reviewing event contracts. Writing briefs. Drafting articles like this one. Chipping away at a spreadsheet I hope will eventually become a budget. It doesn’t show the writing, reading, deciding, deleting, downloading, editing, correcting, and reviewing that takes up 80% of my day. 

Yet none of that work shows up on my calendar. Why? Because it’s not a call or meeting. 

The result is something I’ve come to dread: my calendar looks “free” when I’m anything but. And that perceived availability becomes an open invitation for more meetings. Another call. Another “quick sync.” Another 30-minute block wedged between two others that leaves no time to do the work we keep talking about doing. 

So, I started tricking my calendar. I created fake meetings with titles like “Writing block – do not book” or “Trying and failing to hit inbox zero.” I did this not for clarity, but for defense. It’s a form of calendar camouflage. The quiet rebellion of someone trying to carve space for deep work in a world that only honors events. 

And for years in multiple organizations, I’ve run this weird dual system: calendar for calls, some project tool for tasks, email for chaos, and mental tabs for everything else. There are people who swear by Notion. Or Asana. Or sticky notes. I tried them all. What I ended up with was a life split between the place I plan and the place I do. 

Tasks, or the work we do, have become second-class citizens 

The way we plan our time is strangely biased. Meetings are real. Tasks are invisible. And weirdly, most calendar software reinforces this. Your events are time-boxed, color-coded, and considered sacred. Your tasks? Scattered. Some live in your inbox. Others in your head. A few might be in Notion or Todoist or some company-sanctioned project tool you open once a week out of guilt. 

It makes no sense. Tasks are the work. Meetings are often about the work. Yet only one of them gets a seat at the calendar table. The problem isn’t just philosophical, it’s logistical. When your real work is hidden, so is your capacity. No one, including you, has an honest picture of what you can take on. 

Let’s say I get a work request: “Can you review the agency brief before Thursday?” It lands in my inbox. I read it, then... what? If I want to do the work, I have to move the work. But where? Into my task system. Then into my calendar. Maybe connect it to a document. Maybe leave myself a note to remember why I blocked that time. None of this is automatic. All of it is friction. The mental overhead of keeping work straight between my inbox, calendar, and task tool is exhausting. And if you forget to move just one thing, it slips. Not because you ignored it. But because the system never surfaced it. 

This is how modern professionals end up overwhelmed and burning out. We’re flooded with inputs, but have no automated system for turning those inputs into actual, scheduled output. 

The truth is: my inbox is my intake system 

Almost everything starts in email. A client request. A manager’s nudge. A teammate forwarding a doc with “thoughts?” in the subject line. It might be messy, but it’s the reality. And that’s the issue. Because even as email remains the universal gateway to work, it’s completely disconnected from the place where we plan our time. 

And that’s where Belt comes in. Belt doesn’t replace your email or calendar. It connects them. A marriage if you will. When someone sends you a request, via email, Belt spots it. It scans the language, understands what’s being asked and tags the sender as a “trusted contact.” Then turns that vague request into a task and schedules it on your calendar according to your availability. 

Inbox becomes task. Task becomes time. Time becomes progress. 

With Belt, your calendar starts telling a different story. One where deep work gets as much visibility as meetings. One where people know you’re not “free at 3pm”, but that you’re working at 3pm. The system shows meetings, tasks and deadlines, all in one view. It turns the calendar into a mirror of reality, not a performance of productivity. It’s what calendars should have always been: a complete picture of how your time is spent, not just where you’re supposed to be. 

Why does this matter? 

Because modern work is already hard. Context switching. Priority shifting. The endless battle between focus and responsiveness. The last thing we need is a system that hides the very thing we’re hired to do: work. 

Belt doesn’t invent a new process. It respects the one you already live. You get a calendar that includes your meetings, tasks and deadlines. You get to say “yes” to work with full knowledge of what you’ve already committed to. And maybe, just maybe, you get to stop blocking fake meetings to do real work. 

Because when your actual work shows up on your actual calendar, something shifts. Your time becomes visible. Your effort becomes trackable. Your week becomes manageable.  

The Future of Work Isn't a New Platform. It's Respect. 

Here’s what I believe now, after years of missed work blocks and missed memories: If it’s not on my calendar, it’s not just that it won’t get done. It’s that no one will even know I was doing it. 

Since starting at Belt, I’m realised that their aim is to fix this. Not by forcing a new process, but by honoring the old one and making it work the way people actually work. Belt aims to give you a 360-degree view of your work, your projects, and your people. 

And it finally answers that question I’ve had for years: Why don’t we plan our work in the same place we plan our calls? But now we can.