You wake up and go to the bakery where people serves you Cafe con Leche and you practice your Spanish, then you go to work where everyone speaks English, then you go to Happy Hour on South Beach on Lincoln road where you can talk French to your expat friends, and still managed to have a glimpse of portuguese
You drive back home listening to Jazz on your Public radio station, say three words of Creole to the person working at the gate of your complex, then you finally reach your house and dream in your language.
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