I’ve been wearing an Oura Ring Gen3 Horizon for almost a year. I never wore any connected watch religiously, but it’s the first time since 2013 and the release of the Pebble watch that I haven’t owned one at all. So just to be sure I wasn’t missing anything, I ordered an Apple Watch Series 10.

I had forgotten how nice Apple Watches are. Good ol’ 316L stainless steel has been replaced by a beautifully polished grade 5 titanium that has a subtle gunmetal tinge to it. The display seamlessly blends into the case, which is slimmer than ever before and thinner than most of my other watches. Changing straps is a breeze, and even the most basic ones put Swiss luxury brands to shame. The time is accurate to the millisecond and I love having the moon phase and current temperature on my wrist.

But I had forgotten how exhausting Apple Watches are. Even without using GPS or cellular connectivity, going away for the weekend without a charger is a no-no. The fitness notifications would be infantilizing if they weren’t hilariously inaccurate — asking me to stand up when I’m working at a standing desk is tragically funny. The watch faces aren’t bad, but I’ve never found one that I’m fully satisfied with. Worst of all, it’s always nagging me, making it impossible to ignore what my phone is doing at the bottom of my bag or in another room.

And for what? My mechanical watches are far more elegant. My humble Casio G-Shock keeps time to the second with an essentially endless battery life, thanks to its solar cells. My Oura ring tracks my activity and sleep without interrupting me thirty times a day and needing to be recharged every day. Best of all, none of these ‘devices’ identify me as someone who fell for Apple’s fear-based marketing.

I’ve returned the Apple Watch. I guess I’ll wear a ring on my index finger for the foreseeable future.