Numbers dressed up in fancy suits pretending to be words.
The average number of days it takes to collect payment after a sale, abbreviated as DSO. It measures how long customers ignore your invoices before grudgingly paying—lower is better unless you enjoy running a free lending operation.
Financial instruments whose value is derived from some underlying asset, essentially bets on bets that get so complex even the people trading them need flowcharts. These include options, futures, swaps, and other products that made 2008 interesting. They're tools for hedging risk or speculation, depending on whether you're being responsible or reckless.
A fancy IOU from a corporation that's basically backed by nothing more than a firm handshake and the company's stellar reputation. Unlike bonds secured by actual assets, debentures rely solely on the issuer's creditworthiness—think of it as lending money to your successful friend who promises they're good for it, except your friend is a Fortune 500 company. If they go belly-up, you're just another creditor in a very long line.
Products sold without government taxes at airports and border zones, creating the illusion of amazing deals while you're trapped in transit. The magical land where alcohol and perfume become 'affordable' because customs duties don't apply. Convinces travelers they're saving money while spending it on things they didn't need in the first place.
Every transaction gets recorded twice—one debit, one credit—ensuring your mistakes cancel each other out... usually.
The number that gets to boss around the dividend in a division problem. In finance and analytics, it's whatever metric you're dividing by to make your data look smarter—revenue per employee, users per server, suffering per leadership decision.
The fancy financial way of saying money actually left the account and went somewhere else, as opposed to being promised, allocated, or trapped in bureaucratic purgatory. It's the moment when funds stop being theoretical and become someone else's problem or pleasure. Government agencies and large organizations love this word because it makes spending sound more sophisticated.
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.
The average number of days it takes to sell through inventory, calculated as (inventory / cost of goods sold) Ă— 365. A metric that reveals whether you're efficiently managed or operating a museum of unsold products.
A price reduction that makes accountants slightly nervous because it means less margin, but customers absolutely love it.
A fancy term for items that trigger customs duties when crossing borders, because apparently governments never met a transaction they didn't want to tax. If you're importing it and the taxman wants a cut, congratulations—it's dutiable. This word exists primarily to make customs forms sound more official than "stuff we're charging you extra for."
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.
To place valuables, documents, or funds into safekeeping with another party, often as collateral or for storage—the formal way of saying 'I'm leaving this with you and I expect it back.'
A sum you legally remove from your taxable income to pay less to the government—basically society's way of saying 'if you spent it on this, we'll forgive you some taxes.' Also a logical reasoning method, but accountants care way more about the money part.
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.
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.'
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.
To decline in value over time, or to belittle something—the financial equivalent of watching your investment slowly deflate like a sad balloon.
When something gets smaller, fewer, or less impressive—the opposite of what marketing teams promise. In knitting, it's the deliberate reduction of stitches; in budgets, it's what finance asks for right before you need more resources.
The reduction in value of an asset over time due to wear, obsolescence, or market conditions—accountants' favorite way of reminding you your stuff isn't worth what you paid for it.