Remember Alfred Roller.

My imagined perfect escape almost always includes standing in some common area in the center of a place (most notably my stereotypical office building, in the middle of the cubicles where everyone sits comfortably isolated) and opening my mouth, and letting out a scream. not so much an "OH NO!" scream or an "im scared" scream but more like a yell. A standing at the edge of the earth looking out into a gaping abyss kind of scream.

Sometimes it gets more involved.
Like letting go of 5 or 6 leashes at the end of which rage snarling lions and tigers. Cats who would not care one way or the other about me, but hungrily prowl through my unsuspecting coworkers, sometimes flipping them in the air and leaving them after biting them in the face.

its not hard to surmise that I am not one who is meant for the corporate environment.
In the fridge packed with disgusting microwave meals my organic vegetarian lunch says "NOT YOURS" in black sharpie. It's been stolen before.