Hard-boiled eggs and the last of human freedoms - to choose one's attitude

I've got this thing with hard-boiled eggs at the moment.  I often boil one or two up in the morning to take to work in my packed-lunch.

And come lunch-time I go through the lottery of de-shelling them.  I say lottery because sometimes the shell just peels off with that kind of inner lining of soft skin falling beautifully off the egg leaving it super smooth ready to eat.  Other times I'll take off half the actual egg with a hundred bits of shell leaving the egg, well not egged shaped.

I've pondered this and wondered what the secret is to a consistent egg de-shelling performance - maybe you know and have got this down to an art but I've even followed google advice (there's a lot of information out there on how to de-shell a hard-boiled egg!), but still my daily lottery continues.

Anyway, I've chosen not to invest too much more time worrying about my egg-shelling challenges.  For the moment it appears to be an issue outside my control until some good soul provides me with the golden bullet solution.  It did make me think about what other areas in my life are outside my immediate control and influence and how much time and energy I give to worrying about them and that my choice today is to focus on areas I can directly influence, if not even control. 

And fundamentally that seems to boil down (get the pun?) to choosing my attitude and energy levels.  Yes, this serves up a reminder that we can choose our attitude and energy levels.   In chapter 9 of my book 'Everyball' I reference the story of Victor Frankl.  His career as a psychotherapist and neurologist was interrupted by the Second World War and the Holocaust.  He spent three years in four Nazi camps: Theresienstadt, Auschwitz, Kaufering lll, and Turkheim.  He lost his wife Tilly, and his father, mother and brother in the camps.  Surviving, he wrote Man's Search for Meaning and I quote a paragraph to you:

'We who live in concentration camps can remember the men who walked through the hut comforting others, giving away their last piece of bread.  They may have been few in number, but they offered significant proof that everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms - to choose one's attitude in any given circumstance, to choose one's own way.  And there were always choices to make.  Every day, every hour, offered the opportunity to make a decision, a decision which determined whether you would or would not submit to those powers which threatened to rob you of your very self, your inner freedom; which determined whether or not you will become the plaything of circumstance, renouncing freedom and dignity to become moulded into the form of the typical inmate.'