TV is my constant, especially when I stream it. I can watch whatever I want whenever I want.
Every night when I get home from work, I pet my roommate’s dog, find my comically small Apple TV remote and watch another HBO Go, Netflix or Hulu Plus show. 
I know I’m blessed to have passwords to the three major streaming websites. I also have Amazon Prime, but I didn’t want to make you too jealous. 
Although I have a pretty lofty and expensive DirecTV package, I almost never use it except to watch Bravo. 
I love TV. It’s almost always on in my house as background noise, and while my roommates may grow tired of hearing Michelle Duggar talk to her children like a kindergarten teacher on “19 Kids and Counting,” I never do.
With streaming, I don’t have to plan my day around Sunday night’s scheduled gems such as “Mad Men,” “Keeping Up with the Kardashians” and “The Real Housewives of Atlanta.” 
No matter what happens, I know my mission to rewatch the second season of “Weeds” on Sunday night is possible. No special broadcast, commercial or cable network schedule can stop me. If Nancy Botwin’s suburban marijuana dealings are what I want, it’s what I’ll get. 
That’s the difference between me and my mother. I’m specific, demanding and grossly impatient, especially when it comes to TV. Blame capitalism or being a
“millennial.” I don’t care. 
When my mom, Gabriela, watches a telenovela, she likes to wait all day, texting me potential plotlines in all caps as she anxiously awaits her nightly TV show. Gabriela enjoys waiting. I think it’s called patience, but I’m not sure. 
I have an emotional attachment to streaming, too. I have pretty bad taste in TV, and when I stream, the shows are all mine. I don’t have to keep up with culturally relevant programming as friends make small talk at a pregame party. 
No one can make me feel bad for my bad taste, and no one needs to find out about it. With streaming, I’m under a cover of protection. 
Also a literal cover. I like to snuggle when I stream.
Streaming also reintroduced me to the wonders of the early 2000s. When I received my first Hulu Plus password — thanks to my best friend’s ex-boyfriend — we binged on “The Hills,” “Laguna Beach” and “The City” together. There was no baby-T and low-rise jean filled show we missed out on, all of the headband-era Lauren Conrad golden days were ours. 
Early-2000s MTV reality shows may not be considered official TV classics, but for me they are. And these valuable cultural archives wouldn’t see the light of day without streaming capability.  
TV’s undeniable ability to bring people together still holds strong with
streaming. 
My deputy news editor Quint Forgey and I used to watch Amazon’s original series “Mozart in the Jungle” together on my laptop. In the Hodges Hall basement during our downtime making a newspaper, we’d split ear buds like 13-year-olds on a school bus and watch the campy show. 
We would watch the show every night and talk about ridiculous plotlines after. Sure, we weren’t in a living room waiting for “The Brady Bunch” wearing sweater vests and penny loafers, but the effect of watching TV together was the same. 
We even doled the show out, allowing ourselves to only watch an episode a night, giving us a real old-timey feel. 
So, whether you’re in the mood to binge, or watch TV like an old person, stream it. And, whether you’re into good TV or trash like me, let’s revel in it and stream forever.
Fernanda Zamudio-Suarez is a 20-year-old mass communication junior from Slidell, Louisiana. You can reach her on Twitter @FernandaZamudio.