I've been defeated by a tiny bedside table

I have this tiny, tiny bedside table. And, like, my bedroom's kind of small, so it's really the only size table that fits next to my bed. And to give you an idea, it's, like, 14 inches wide and 12 inches deep. It has a lamp on it. It has a box of tissues. It has, like, my favorite hand lotion. It has a gazillion hair ties. It has pens. So many pens. It has whiteout also, because, you know, sometimes when I'm, like, doing some work from bed, I make mistakes and I have to use whiteout, obviously, like most people. And, you know, it has, like, Advil and just a bunch of other random shit that ends up on your nightstand. Right? Literally, I try to cram so much stuff on this that I'll, like, scoot a little mug of tea on it, and, like, things will fall off the back. And this has been driving me absolutely fucking mental for months. The other day, I was cleaning my room, and I'm looking at this nightstand, and I'm like, this is a problem. I need to figure this out. And I'm looking at the nightstand, and I realized it has a drawer. I keep things in the drawer of the nightstand. Literally. It's not like this was a surprise drawer. I've legit had this nightstand for 23 years, more than half of my life. Now I put a bunch of stuff inside, and we'll just have to see. If I remember, I could honestly have a crisis of no more hair ties. I might have to go order more pension, because out of sight, out of mind. If something's important, we need to keep it out and visible so that we don't forget that it exists. When I had this aha. I literally called my best friend to brag about how smart I am. She was very impressed.