November 25, 2002 | 9:40 PM

When I do something nice for someone�say making them a mix tape or taking them out to dinner or to a play. Or staying up with them 'til all hours talking through a crisis, I don�t sit around for three days later thinking to myself,

Gosh, I did something so nice. I sure am amazing.

So why then, when I do something that hurts someone, are my next three days devoted to dwelling on what a terrible bastard I am? As though I have done the worst thing in the entire world.

I need to be a lot less hard on myself, I think. It�s one thing to admit you were wrong about something, and quite another to berate and lambaste yourself over it. It�s fruitless. Also, nothing I do is that important to make it the worst thing in the world.

Nobody is perfect. And like most people, my greatest strengths are in certain situations my greatest weaknesses. I am for better or for worse, hedonistic, impulsive, and outrageously intense about everything I do�be it write a philosophy paper, go on a drunken binge, or perform in front of an audience. I�m not saying I don�t have issues that I need to work on and through, but I have to stop being so fucking down on myself and instead just learn from whatever mistakes I�ve made.

Tomorrow I leave for Rochester to spend Thanksgiving with my family, something I am looking forward to greatly.