The iPad: the world's most expensive rectangle. The Guardian wanted me to write a first-impressions review on launch day – but how? I could borrow one from an early adopter, but that wouldn't be the same. I don't like poking round other people's computers. It's like snooping through their medicine cabinets: quite quickly you can stumble across something you wish you hadn't seen. I needed a new one, straight out of the packaging. A new one I could keep.

But this being launch day, iPads were bound to be scarcer than cats' eggs, right? Disappointingly, the Guardian picked one up from the Tottenham Court Road branch of PC World without having to kill anyone.

Typically for Apple, the packaging virtually places the device in your hands with the grace of a well-trained butler. The iPad itself is surprisingly heavy: about the same as a hardback book. It gave me mild arm ache almost immediately. Maybe there's an app that can tell you how many calories you're burning just by holding it. The best solution is to adopt a self-consciously casual crossed-legged sitting position, and prop it up with your thigh. Fanboys who wet themselves may cause a short circuit.

The display is extremely glossy, so the first thing you'll see on your screen is a reflection of your face from an unflattering angle. It also doubles as a fingerprint collector, which means you'll spend the first hour obsessively wiping it clean on your T-shirt before giving up and ordering an adhesive screen protector from Amazon (which, if the iPhone equivalents are anything to go by, will be impossible to apply without contemplating suicide at least twice). At this price, Apple – nice, friendly Apply – could at least include a couple of free screen protectors and some kind of carry-case, no? Of course not.

You're required to use iTunes during the setup process, which is like being forced to eat a handful of mud. iTunes is twice as awful as any software crime Microsoft ever inflicted on the world. Up popped a progress bar which turned out to be a work of satirical fiction – lodging fast at 7/8ths complete while making random claims about how long it was going to take to finish. It was impossible to tell if it had crashed or was just being sarcastic. I was scared to pull the sync cable out– and I'm a nerd. So much for Macs being easy to use. Eventually a nice man from MacFormat magazine saw me moaning about it on Twitter and gave me some personal assistance. Your experience may differ.

Eventually it was up and running. And yes, if you've used an iPhone, it's a bit of an anticlimax, although toying with it is undeniably pleasant. The display is supernaturally crisp; the seamless, intuitive interface becomes second nature almost immediately. Once you've got used to the weight, it's perfect for browsing websites while lounging on the sofa. I don't mean that dismissively: it's quite an achievement – especially since "browsing websites while lounging on the sofa" is what the vast majority of laptops are currently used for.

So websites look great on it. As does video. The BBC iPlayer is particularly impressive. But books? Here, I'm less convinced. Kindle owners can download a free app which lets them access their books on the iPad; Apple also has its own rival iBook service. In both cases the screen looks superb, and swiping a finger across the screen to flip the page gives you an undeniable futuristic thrill. But the display, luminously gorgeous when replaying video, is simply not suited for reading articles at length.Yes, you can adjust the brightness, but it's still firing light into your pupils, unlike an ebook screen, with its poncey "electronic ink".

I doubt many readers will persevere to the final page of a novel, unless it's a book in which the lead character squints a lot, in which case you'll have a certain empathy.

Magazines and newspapers, with their shorter read times, may be a different matter. The Guardian's Eyewitness app, a free interactive gallery of recent photojournalism, looks and feels like the future. If print media really wants to make the transition to devices like these, thinking long and hard about the visual, it needs to think long and hard about the full visual potential.

So do you actually need one? Having used one for the past few hours, I can confidently state that you can safely wait until it's lighter and cheaper. At the very least, wait until they bring out an app that turns the iPad into a talking Lord Lucan mask which you can hold up in front of your own face and talk through. If there isn't one already.