I'm now awake, obviously, otherwise how would I be writing this - I'm a geek, but I'm not the sort of uber geek who can blog in his sleep, or even transmit data directly from his dozing brain via WiFi. I've been awake about 15 minutes. I got to sleep around 2 last night and I've slept the deep deep sleep of the knackered.

A quick summary of yesterday might be in order. I woke awkwardly on the sofa - not quite long enough for my large frame. I grabbed a shower. Then I walked into town, via the sandwich shop where I bought water for my vitamin supplements. I went to the venue and put up some more posters for our show. I ended up chatting to Lynn Ruth Miller, a septegenarian Jewish San Franciscan who is doing about 4 shows a day all Fringe (I actually think she's working harder than me) and she invited me to do her show that night.

Then my comedy co-performer Hannah arrived and we went to her flat to rehearse the show. We needed the script a bit and we re-wrote things. The show is really developing well, I think.

After the rehearsal, Hannah had to go out flyering and I grabbed some papers and went for lunch. I had a flatbread panini type thing and a cappuccino. Then I noticed the time. 2.45... my first performance was at 3.30. I had to move. I needed to pick up my guitar from the flat and the distances were a bit too big to walk comfortably. I zoomed towards the flat on foot, stopping by the music shop to buy a nice, but slightly expensive, music stand.

I got to the car, unpacked the bike, reassembled the front wheel and then realised that I had both a rucksack AND a guitar to carry. I worked out how to clip my rucksack to the rucksack-style straps of the guitar and then I was fully loaded. I rushed to the venue and arrived by 3.20. Quite sweaty.

We set up the stage for the topical news show and then I rushed backstage to write something. I didn't really have anything new to perform. So I wrote a 4 verse Bob Dylan pastiche about wanting to have Jordan killed. It seemed the easiest thing to do. (This is the surely art of stand-up summarised in a few words "It seemed the easiest thing to do"). I worked out the chords in my head using a virtual guitar - that's the one in my mind, I don't have guitar hero on my phone or anything stupid like that. Turns out, I was right. When I hit the stage, I performed bits and bobs and this song was one of them. I announced it as a song that even I'd never heard before. Broadly speaking, it worked.

Then we rushed/cycled to the next venue and did The Great Big comedy Picnic. It was a busy room and I had fun with the audience.

Then I rushed back to the flat to drop off my rucksack. It was now 5.55. I also pumped up the tyres on my bike and then rushed to Hannah's for another rehearsal. We rehearsed well, and I left her at about 8pm, with the 9.10 show looming. I had time to cycle back to the flat, put the guitar in the car, and then drive back out to the venue where I'd be performing.

After a small amount of relaxing, the show was on, I performed a 20 minute set to mixed response from the audience, but I quite enjoyed myself. As soon as I left the stage, I drove across town to pick up Hannah and then I brought her back to do the next show in that room with me. Our performance went down ok, and I spent the whole of that show in the sound booth as the man operating the CD player and also doing the voice over for bits of the show which needed it.

Then, knackered, I bought a couple of sandwiches from co-op, drove back to the flat eating them, and then sat on the sofa in the flat with a big smoothie and chatted to the flat mates.

Going to bed was a lot like entering a coma.

I'm awake and ready to go now, though.