All Right Already with the Damp

It is cold in the attic office. This is not a complaint I make often. Also? Damp. Every old war wound is awake and snarling -- shoulder, wrists, knee -- and the only thing I want to do is curl up under a buncha floofy blankets and sleep through it all.

Actually, the knee has been acting up pretty constantly for the last month -- dry weather or damp. I'm thinking I'm coming up to a decision point. Twenty-five years or so ago when I did a double-somersault down a flight of concrete steps and cleverly landed on my knee, I was offered surgery, which, after talking to a buncha people who had had the surgery being offered and who, if they had had it to do over, told me that they wouldn't have -- I declined. And, after a while, yanno, the knee got better. For values of better including It Works, Mostly, and Only Hurts When It Rains.

It would probably help to lose the twenty pounds I picked up since the schedule of go-to-day-job-sit-at-desk/come-home-sit-at-desk went into force a couple years ago, but I don't see a massive exercise and weight loss regimen in my near future.

Anybody had knee surgery lately? How'd it go?