As soon as a new bottle of Ativan comes home (tonight it was ordered and delivered, because I was too panicky to drive myself to pick it up), I divvy it up amongst three most important places: my bedside table, the shelf above my toilet, and the teeny Carebear tin that never leaves my purse (or my waitress pouch, at work)!
My bedroom is often a place the panic starts..the bathroom is where I go when the panic gets worse..and I never leave the house without a small supply of just-in-case drugs, or else I panic.
OCD? Perhaps. Well thought out, and well prepared? Duh.
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