Numbers dressed up in fancy suits pretending to be words.
In finance, debt or claims that get paid last in the hierarchy of bankruptcy proceedings—basically the financial equivalent of standing at the back of the line. Subordinated debt holders only get paid after senior creditors are satisfied, making it riskier but typically offering higher returns. It's the 'you'll get yours if there's anything left' category of obligations.
The formal way of saying 'money spent,' used by accountants and government agencies to make spending sound more official and less like shopping. It's the act of paying out funds or the amount actually disbursed, tracked obsessively in budgets everywhere. The difference between expenditure and expense is subtle enough that even accountants argue about it at parties—yes, those parties are exactly as fun as they sound.
Temporarily moving assets or liabilities off the books through short-term sales with prearranged buyback agreements, essentially hiding things in plain sight. It's the financial equivalent of shoving everything into the closet before guests arrive.
The total value of a leveraged position's assets, as opposed to the actual cash you put up, which is usually much less. It's the difference between owning a $100,000 house and the $20,000 you put down.
In finance, the Greek letter measuring how much an option's price will swing when market volatility does its thing—basically, it's sensitivity to how much everyone is collectively freaking out. The higher the vega, the more your option's value rides the uncertainty rollercoaster. Named after Las Vegas (sort of), because options trading is basically sanctioned gambling with more math.
Borrowing money in a currency with low interest rates, then investing it in assets with higher returns elsewhere, pocketing the difference. Works brilliantly until exchange rates move against you and your 'free money' becomes very expensive.
Expressing each financial statement line item as a percentage of a base figure, like revenue or total assets. It's financial statements in relative terms, making it easier to spot when expenses are getting out of hand.
The complete month-end or year-end financial closing process with all adjustments, reconciliations, and financial statements finalized—as opposed to a soft close that's faster but less comprehensive. It's the accounting equivalent of spring cleaning versus just shoving everything in the closet.
The time it takes to convert cash into inventory, inventory into receivables, and receivables back into cash—essentially how long your money is tied up in operations. Shorter is better unless you're a fine wine producer.
The percentage of revenue remaining after subtracting cost of goods sold, revealing how much you make before paying for all the other stuff that keeps businesses running. High margins are good; low margins mean you're working hard to stay broke.
A magical loophole in the tax code that lets you keep slightly more of your own money, usually granted for dependents, disabilities, or other life circumstances the government deems worthy of pity. It's the carrot in a system that's mostly stick. Your accountant mentions these in hushed, reverent tones.
Free money from governments, foundations, or institutions that you don't have to pay back, making them the unicorn of funding options. The catch is you have to write a novel-length application, jump through bureaucratic hoops, and then use the money exactly as specified or risk audits and shame. It's basically a scholarship for organizations, except with ten times the paperwork and the constant anxiety that you're somehow violating section 3.14(b) of the compliance requirements.
A formal piece of paper (or PDF) politely demanding money for goods or services already delivered, with the implicit threat of awkward follow-up emails. It's the business world's IOU in reverse, complete with line items, payment terms that nobody reads, and a due date that's more of a suggestion. The document that turns friendly business relationships into passive-aggressive email chains.
A binding commitment that transforms 'I'd like to' into 'I legally have to' faster than you can say 'terms and conditions.' It's the formal requirement—legal, moral, or contractual—that keeps society functioning and accountants employed. The thing that makes you show up even when you'd rather fake your own death.
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 mythical finish line where you stop working and live off savings, investments, or delusion—whichever runs out first. In finance, it's the reason people pretend to save money in 401(k)s while secretly hoping the market crashes so they inherit someone else's wealth.
The delightful process of getting your money back after you've already spent it, typically involving byzantine expense report systems and a CFO who questions why you needed that airport coffee. It's the corporate promise that 'we'll pay you back'—eventually, maybe, if you have all seventeen required receipts. The business world's version of an IOU that actually gets honored.
Income that you have to pay taxes on despite never actually receiving the cash, which is as frustrating as it sounds. Common with certain bonds, partnerships, and investment structures designed by people who hate you.
The strategy of writing off massive losses all at once to get the bad news over with, typically when a new CEO arrives and can blame everything on their predecessor. It's financial spring cleaning with someone else's mess.
When auditors state they found nothing wrong in their limited review rather than affirmatively stating everything is correct. It's the professional equivalent of 'I didn't see any problems' rather than 'everything is definitely fine.'
The entity that gives you money now in exchange for you giving them more money later, ideally with interest and your sanity intact. Banks, credit unions, and that one friend who still brings up the $20 from 2015 all qualify.
A polite financial euphemism for 'risky as hell' that describes loans given to borrowers with sketchy credit histories at interest rates that would make a loan shark blush. These loans were so responsible they nearly collapsed the global economy in 2008. Now used as both a technical term and a cautionary tale.
A person or entity that owes money, making them the star of collection agencies' dreams and creditors' spreadsheets. In bankruptcy proceedings, they're the main character in a financial tragedy. Distinguished from a borrower by the implication that payment is overdue or the relationship has gone south.
The legal obligation to act in someone else's best financial interest, putting their needs above your own. It's the difference between a financial advisor who works for you and one who's basically a commissioned salesperson.