WE spent a day with writer and performer Kieran Hurley, who is touring the UK with his show Heads Up.

6.30am. My daughter, who is nearly two, has woken up and wants to “do the dishes”, which sounds like it should be a total bonus for me but really involves standing on a chair at the sink with the tap running and chucking bubbles about while I try to clear all the actual dirty dishes out of harm’s way. I get the coffee on, check emails on my phone, and try to stop her from drinking soap.

12.30pm. I’ve been sitting in this café for three hours, as a morning that was meant to be spent writing has been hijacked by various phone calls, in particular about a plan B (or more like C, or D) after a real kick-in-the-teeth of a rejected funding application. It can be a weird rollercoaster of self-worth, this job. You’re forever at the mercy of other people’s opinions, corralled with your peers into a competitive marketplace nobody really wants to be in – a bunch of bad news at once and it’s easy to internalise the idea that you must actually just be rubbish.

I’m sure that oscillating between this and the dizzying affirmation of something going well wreaks havoc on my mental health, and I imagine trading it in for a life where I get to just steadily feel mostly OK about myself for most of the time. Then I think about my CV and remember I’m 31 and the only thing I know how to do is make theatre and tell stories. So that focuses the mind a bit likes eh.

4pm. I need printing so I head to the Writer’s Room in the Playwrights’ Studio at the CCA, where I share a desk with the brilliant playwright and spoken word poet Martin O’Connor. It’s a kind of Byker Grove for Scottish playwrights (what’s the collective noun for playwrights? A dramaturgy?) and its existence is a welcome reminder of a wider community.

9.30pm. After catching up with Julia on her work and putting the wean to be bed, I check my emails again. There’s one from my producer confirming travel arrangements for the next Heads Up gig. It occurs to me that there is perhaps no single sentence that better encapsulates the vague postmodern ennui of solo-show touring than “Ibis Hotel, Crewe: double room, one guest, no wifi.” The show tours with just me carrying a suitcase full of kit. The truth, though, is that even a solo show is never the work of just one person and the real joy comes from working with artists that do things you never could then sharing the results with an audience. Anyone that comes to Heads Up will see the work of Malcolm Rogan (a lighting hero), MJ McCarthy (a sound wizard – in both senses), Liam Hurley (a storytelling guru), Alex Swift (one of the few genuine radicals in British theatre), and Julia Taudevin (a brilliant actor and writer and the most fearless artist I know.) I have a brief moment of checking myself as I remember how lucky I am. And I do get to spend a lot of time sitting about in cafés.

Heads Up comes to Dundee Rep on March 14. Tel: 01382 223 530.

Full dates at www.showandtelluk.com/event/heads-up-tour