A warning: Should you ever get the chance, do not consume liquids while on the phone with Emmy Award-winning writer and self-described geek Jessi Klein. She'll surely make you laugh, and you may begin to sputter, misting your desk with water while trying to mask the distinctive and un-chill sound of gagging.

Though, it will be worth it. Because Klein — who is not only whip-smart funny on the phone but also across the pages of her new essay collection, You'll Grow Out Of It, debuting June 12 — is an American comedic treasure, and that is not a hyperbolic statement in the slightest. The 40-year-old rose through the ranks of Comedy Central, helping to develop programming like Chapelle's Show, before eventually getting Inside Amy Schumer off the ground.

Along the way, she also hammered out her own comedy career, doing stand-up, appearing on VH1 nostalgia specials, and of course writing — always writing — for work and for herself and for this new book. We spoke to Klein about the first time someone told her she was funny, why Inside Amy Schumer isn't trying to be feminist, fancy bodega chocolate, and the things she hopes never to grow out of.

There's this moment in your book where a popular girl tells you that you're funny — was that really the first time you realized you had a knack for making people laugh?

"I think [it was] the first positive feedback I had gotten from high school, in terms of that kind of magical wand [being] waved over you by somebody with social status. I liked joking around, I loved comedy, but that might’ve been a light switch moment where I was like, 'This is someone I don’t have anything in common with, who wouldn’t normally have any interest in talking to me. And yet there seems to be a tool that is working here."

I love that visual of the magic wand, anointing you with fairy dust.

"There is so much fairy dust."

Can you recall other magic wand/fairy dust moments, where someone else called out something about you that made it real?

"Wow, that is a real deep question. You mean in my life? I’m drinking my first cup of coffee! [laughs] I guess winning an Emmy is a magic wand moment, not to be a dick about it. But I feel like you’re more of a dick if you don’t appreciate [that kind of thing] for being pretty insane."

You wrote about how getting into your Spanx for the Emmy's was another kind of magic moment.

"Oh my god... There are photos on Getty where you can see my Spanx shorts sticking out just a skosh. It’s hard to notice, because it’s a black dress and they are black Spanx. But if you look real close, I noticed in the ensuing weeks that there’s a couple centimeters of just pure Spanx. It’s kind of perfect.

I promise I won’t go scrutinizing them on Getty after this.

"If you don’t, you’re not a human being."

Speaking of being human: I love the point you make in the book about how women end up convincing themselves they are cool with the scraps of things — like the bathtub becoming a female oasis, like as a woman you must love baths because it's your only private space.

"I feel like it’s sort of the same moment as when you have to pretend that you’re eating a salad that you love. You’re just like: Isn’t this the best salad?

"Not that there aren’t super delicious salads — of course there are, and I do enjoy eating them. But let’s not pretend that there isn’t something better on that menu almost all the time."

Yes! It's like eating two squares of dark chocolate at night and telling yourself it was decadent.

"Oh my god, I want to fling myself off a roof when I hear someone talking about the two squares. I used to do that when I lived by myself: I would get — what is it, Ritter? That fancy bodega brand, Ritter — and think, 'Do I love myself enough to buy myself a Ritter chocolate bar?' That’s always the question.

"And then I would be like: I’m just going to have a square. At 4 PM on the dot, I’m going to have one square. And then I would eat the square, and then I’d go back to my couch and keep getting up for square trips, and usually by the last eight squares I’d be like, 'This is a massive bunch of nonsense.' I’m like: Yeah, I’m eating an entire chocolate bar, which I think is about 90,000 calories or something ridiculous."