Yet another February 14 just passed us.

I suppose this day would, to a lot of guys out there with that special someone in their lives mean moments of hysteria and pandemonium as they scramble to get that bouquet of champagne-coloured roses, that box of chocolates and that hand-made card done and to find enough saga seeds to fill up that heart-shaped container and try desperately to secure a reservation at a nice, cosy restaurant perfect for that intimate talk over a romantic, candle-lit dinner.

I wasn't involved in any of the above pursuits.

The night was spent in total pandemonium, but with my notes, grappling with principles and concepts that were force-fed to me.

Concepts that would normally take a couple of months to appreciate but unwittingly, which we were forced to absorb and digest in a matter of a fortnight and to apply them in a test the following day.

It was total madness, I thought.

My brain is not a sponge, I was crying out.

So the test went ahead and I was just glad it was over.

Would probably manage a pass but not a good one. Strange questions being set. I could have sworn the instructor had a score to settle with the whole lot of us for not paying attention and dozing off.

Anyway, today's test would just be the first in a series of a few that would follow, all equally crazy and to prove that our brains are indeed like sponges.

Right now, my brain is just max-ed out.

Totally saturated.