It’s Fall 2013. I’m in New York City. A second-year litigation associate at the highest-grossing, white shoe Big Law law firm, on a work trip from our DC office, to second chair a deposition.

If you’re not familiar with a deposition, it’s the epitome of litigiousness. Two sides sitting across the table from each other in fancy (or not) conference rooms with cans of Diet Coke and catered sandwich lunches and mountains of cardboard boxes filled with intimidating and overwhelming amounts of paper documents — “discovery.”

In a situation like this, adrenaline is flowing and billions of dollars of exposure are likely on the line.

No big deal, right?

I also happen to find out on this particular high-stress day that my boyfriend at the time is cheating on me.

I’ve keep it cooly professional all day long. And at the end of the deposition, I’m somehow both exhausted and buzzing —with adrenaline and emotions, like I’ve had way too much coffee (which I probably have).

So I walk right out of that midtown Manhattan high rise office building, not to the train station back to DC.

But right into Saks Fifth Avenue.

Within 5 minutes, I’ve spent $3,600 on a Louis Vuitton purse.

Yes, a purse.

Well, more of a “bag.” (A “work bag!”)

I’m equally parts “YES! THIS REVENGE / CELEBRATION SPLURGE FEELS AMAZING! I DESERVE THIS!” and …

Instant regret.

Thinking to myself, “Gosh, American Express should really have not only an Identity Theft fraud alert function to their cards, but also a stress spending alert, where, when you make a wildly arbitrary and wildly expensive purchase of a luxury consumer product (a $3,600 purse certainly qualifies), AmEx texts you:

“IS THIS ADDING VALUE TO YOUR LIFE?”

Maybe even…

“Shouldn’t you just talk to a friend or go to yoga instead?”

And that’s the thing about stress coping mechanisms.

All of them give you that quick hit of dopamine or distraction or ability to tune out or glaze over or go numb.

They do the job in the short run.

But many of them (especially of the stress splurge spending variety) don’t do a damn thing to help us actually understand our stress, learn to recognize its triggers, integrate its effects on our bodies, and help bring us back to equilibrium (or make better decisions in the future).

Many of them actually make us feel worse the next morning. (I’m looking at you too many glasses of wine at “happy hour.")

Comfort seeking is such a natural impulse.

Especially when we meet our edge.

You know.

Those moments where it feels like the rug has been pulled out from underneath us. Or we've just had it up to here, and we're set off or we shut down over something, in the scheme of things, that's pretty small. Or there's some sense of not-right-ness we can't quite name or figure out how to change.

That place from which we reach for something, anything, that makes us feel better.

We all have our go-tos don't we?

For me, this year, it's been crashing into Netflix and the couch at the end of yet another groundhog day. Or reaching for my phone every time I get that itch. Which if I'm being honest, is me looking for a way out — from stress or anxiety or boredom or overwhelm.

So now I’ve set up my own “stress alert” by asking myself that question.

It's simple.

And it's challenging.

And it works:

"Is this adding value to my life?"

(I can tell you out of the 1,000,000 shows I've scrolled through or started to watch on demand this year, streaming TV yet another time is absolutely not adding value to my life. And yet...these go tos are sticky).

This mindful-stress solution don’t take a way the stress completely.

But it’s part of a better tool kit that sure helps me deal with it in a healthier, more sustainable way. To keep my cool. To lengthen my fuse. To give me just that much more patience and presence and clarity and discernment to make a better decision. 

The next time you find yourself reaching for that thing yet again — try asking instead: is this adding value to my life?