Numbers dressed up in fancy suits pretending to be words.
An accounting entry that increases assets or decreases liabilities in the left column of the ledger, or in normal-person terms, money leaving your bank account. It's the financial industry's fancy word for "subtraction" that confuses everyone because in banking, a debit increases your account from the bank's perspective but decreases it from yours. The reason accountants have job security is explaining why debits aren't always subtractions.
A measure of whether a company can meet its long-term obligations, typically comparing assets to liabilities or earnings to debt service. It answers the question: 'Will this company exist next year?'
The corporate equivalent of doomsday prepping, where businesses hoard inventory like squirrels on caffeine. It's the strategic accumulation of goods in anticipation of shortages, price increases, or that vague feeling that everything's about to go sideways. Finance teams love it until they see the warehouse bills and inventory carrying costs.
Corporate-speak for 'we spent money' or 'we're now responsible for something unfortunate.' It's the passive-aggressive accounting term for when costs, debts, or liabilities show up uninvited on your balance sheet. The word makes financial disasters sound inevitable and sophisticated, as if you didn't just make a questionable decision.
Money that companies hand back to shareholders because they couldn't figure out how to burn it all on expansion. It's the reward for owning a piece of a company that actually makes profit—a rare and increasingly mythical creature in the startup world.
The moment when someone finally gets their money—whether it's a legitimate payment, a well-earned reward, or an envelope full of cash to look the other way. In finance, it's the return on investment; in real life, it's what makes sitting through terrible meetings almost worthwhile. The term conveniently covers everything from dividends to bribes.
A financial statement showing revenue, expenses, and profit over a period—the report card executives pray nobody reads closely.
The failure to meet financial or contractual obligations on time, or the pre-configured settings in software that nobody bothers to change—both equally problematic in their own ways.
The running total that keeps adding up over time—like compound interest that rewards patience or technical debt that punishes procrastination.
Extra stuff you didn't budget for but desperately need anyway—the legislative equivalent of a parent asking for another round of allowance. It's the admission that your initial plan was incomplete, and you need additional funding to finish what you started.
Combining financial results from a parent company and all its subsidiaries into one statement—to hide where the actual problems are located.
The polite fiction that you'll eventually pay back what you owe—a financial IOU dressed up in accounting terminology. It's that magical future date when debts somehow transform into credits, assuming math and time both cooperate.
The ability to meet long-term obligations and survive beyond next quarter—unlike liquidity, which only cares about immediate bills. A company can be liquid but insolvent (cash now, doomed later) or illiquid but solvent (asset-rich, cash-poor).
The length of time something takes, from start to finish—also a finance term that measures how bond prices throw a tantrum when interest rates change. In music, it's how long a note gets to hang out; in warfare, it's corporate-speak for 'how long this mess lasts.'
In accounting, the transfer of transaction amounts from a journal into the corresponding ledger accounts—the meticulous bookkeeping step that turns scattered notes into organized financial records.
A formal agreement to pay for ongoing access to a service, resource, or property over a set period—the modern way to ensure consistent income or perpetual FOMO depending on which side you're on.
The direct costs of producing your products—basically the stuff that physically goes into making what you sell.
The upper limit you're not supposed to exceed—whether it's a price cap, altitude restriction, or your boss's patience. The thing above your head that prevents you from going higher.
A category of investments with similar characteristics—so you can group your terrible decisions into tidy portfolios.
The moment a court officially agrees that math doesn't work in your favor and you need legal intervention to salvage what's left. Where 'broke' graduates to being a legally acknowledged disaster.
The chemical element (symbol C) that literally forms the backbone of all organic life and fossil fuels. It's also what your company's carbon footprint is made of—the environmental metric you're pretending to care about.
Using financial instruments or strategies to reduce risk exposure—essentially betting against yourself to sleep better at night.
Money you owe for the privilege of belonging to a club, association, or organization. Also, what you get when someone finally admits you were right all along.
To assign disproportionate importance or numerical values to specific data points, typically used in statistics and financial modeling to skew results toward a desired outcome.