Agile and non human

So the good news is that not only one but two papers got accepted and I have sent final versions for publication.  Initially I felt very happy, elated, humbled by the whole experience.

But wait a minute.  I get an email from a colleague who is upset about some publishing policies that ask us to open up the papers to public view.

I see one of the policies, and I found out that one of my papers cannot qualify according to the policy.  Why? Because publisher is not willing to open access to the paper.  Instead they are going to charge money. And I just signed the agreement.  I enjoyed writing the paper,  I really did! 

Yes I feel disappointed.  The whole publication game in academia is turning into something much more complex than I imagined.  I spend the next two hours trying to understand this new requirement and making sure I comply with the policy. 

It is too much.  I get home and I feel terrible.  During the night my twin girl is sick, and I have to look after her.  Next day I feel utterly miserable.  As if I have failed as a human being,  I get irritable, angry, I need some sleep.  

Luckily and thanks to my wife I get some sleep.  But still today I check again the papers and write an email to policy people asking for clarification.  

So I am not good at stopping thinking about work.  I should have been more proactive to find out and respond to new demands.  I should have been more agile.  I should have listened to that guy who I do not like when he was talking about this policy.  I stopped listening to him after meeting him in person and realising that he did not really understood my fatherhood condition.  

I cannot be agile. I really have a life outside work.  I cannot just enhance my brain and be agile as well as a calm and composed father.  Work does not help when it becomes unpredictable and when I do not dedicate my full brain to it.  Doing so would be in my view not human. 

I feel anxious of thinking that all the work is going to waste.  Why is this? Is a paper so important and transcendental? Why have I become so focused on this piece of writing that means the world to me? 

I am not sure.  Maybe it is my passion turning into something else.  Or maybe it is me that needs to stop worrying too much.