DAY8-A World Where “Overtime” Is a Recurring Calendar Event (Set a Year Ahead) —
(In this series, I’m documenting what it’s really like to be seconded from the private sector to a Japanese central government office. Follow if you’re curious.)
Kasumigaseki Assignment — Day 8
I saw something… unsettling.
In someone’s calendar,
there was an event called:
“Overtime.”
Not just once.
Every day.
And not manually—
it was set as a recurring event.
The kind that goes on forever.
6:15 PM to 9:00 PM.
Two hours and forty-five minutes.
The moment work hours officially end,
“overtime” begins—automatically.
Next week.
The week after.
Scroll further… still “overtime.”
At least a year ahead was already booked.
I stared at it twice.
“Wait… what is this?”
I found it by accident while checking schedules on Outlook.
At first, I thought it was just him.
But then I got curious.
So I checked a few more calendars.
(Yes. I know how that sounds.)
They were there.
Multiple people.
“Overtime (daily)”
More than one.
It felt… slightly dystopian.
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I asked someone nearby.
“What’s this about?”
Answer time: 0.5 seconds.
“Because they work overtime. Obviously.”
Obviously?
Apparently, in this place,
overtime isn’t something that happens.
It’s something you schedule.
I got curious how late he actually stays.
But I didn’t want to get dragged into it.
So I asked him:
“How late will you be here today?”
“Probably until around 9 PM!
Let me know if I can help with anything.”
…Right.
Also, I think I’m the one who’s supposed to say that line.
Right before the end of the workday,
he quietly has coffee
and a chocolate pastry.
Chocolate bread. Pretty good, honestly. I like it too.
He eats in silence.
It looks like a ritual—
the calm before the real work begins.
I’ve never seen him eat lunch.
Always at his desk.
Typing. Focused.
The kind of person who actually gets things done.
(For what it’s worth, your tax money is being well used.)
He’s kind. Polite.
Perfectly normal to talk to.
A real human being.
And yet—
his calendar is filled with overtime.
That contrast is the scariest part.
Even scarier?
No one thinks it’s strange.
I haven’t put “overtime” in my calendar.
And I don’t plan to.
I’d rather meet friends.
See my partner.
Read at home.
Go to the gym.
Sleep.
But here,
the people who schedule overtime
look like the “normal” ones.
By Day 8, I think I’m starting to understand.
This is a place where your schedule defines your future.
And that future, apparently, is—
overtime.
Anyway, I’ll try to leave on time again tomorrow.
(Not saying I’ll succeed.)
