Waking up to the distanced drilling from the construction workers a few stories down. The sun is in full force, it's 8.30am and the smell of freshly baked bread is filling the entire hallway as I make my way down the wooden stairs. I head outside, linger on the steps outside the door while the construction worker on the ground yells something in portuguese to the men further up to stop drilling as I need to pass by. He is moisty and dusty, and fires a modest smile while I thank him and take a few steps over the paint buckets, and stroll down the street. When coming back, I'll make myself that smoothie, I'm thinking to myself and turn on Good Life on the ipod.
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