Numbers dressed up in fancy suits pretending to be words.
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).
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.
In finance, the magical date when a debt instrument finally dies and you get your principal back, assuming the borrower hasn't conveniently declared bankruptcy. It's the finish line of your bond investment journey, when all those coupon payments finally culminate in getting your original money returned, possibly worth less due to inflation. The financial equivalent of your kid moving out—you've been waiting forever, and when it finally happens, you're not sure if you should celebrate or panic about what comes next.
Either the stuff sitting in your warehouse gathering dust, or pieces of ownership in a company that give people something to obsess over on their phones all day. In retail, it's inventory; in finance, it's equity shares that fluctuate based on corporate news, earnings reports, and sometimes just vibes. Both versions represent value that can disappear faster than you'd like.
The self-control a company claims to have while spending aggressively on growth. In finance, it's the theoretical concept that you might not burn through all your capital in the first year—a concept most startups reject immediately.
Money set aside for a future obligation you're pretty sure will happen—basically an educated guess with teeth.
When you acquire a company for less than the fair value of its identifiable net assets, essentially buying a dollar for seventy cents. Also called a 'bargain purchase,' it's as rare as it sounds and usually indicates something's wrong.
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.
A financial statement showing revenue, expenses, and profit over a period—the report card executives pray nobody reads closely.
To form the fundamental basis or foundation of something—the hidden mechanism that explains why things work the way they do.
Faker than a three-dollar bill, more artificial than a participation trophy. Something that looks legit but is actually counterfeit, fraudulent, or just plain wrong.
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.
Using financial instruments or strategies to reduce risk exposure—essentially betting against yourself to sleep better at night.
To make your financial accounts stop lying to each other by adjusting numbers until debits and credits agree. It's accounting's version of couples therapy—painful but necessary.
In finance, an account where money sits in limbo, waiting for clarification before anyone is allowed to touch it. Basically financial purgatory.
Assets expected to be converted to cash within 12 months, including cash, accounts receivable, and inventory. Basically, the stuff you expect to turn into money before the year ends.
Something that can theoretically last forever, like subscriptions that auto-renew until you die or energy sources that won't destroy the planet. In finance, it's contracts or licenses that keep going unless someone remembers to cancel them. In environmental contexts, it's resources like solar and wind that corporations love to brag about in sustainability reports.
The running total that keeps adding up over time—like compound interest that rewards patience or technical debt that punishes procrastination.
The art and science of managing money, investments, and capital flows—basically the oxygen that keeps organizations breathing.
The financial magic trick of bundling your messy loans into shiny securities and selling them to investors who definitely won't regret it. It's basically alchemy, except regulated and prone to spectacular failure.
Temporarily acquiring someone else's money with a solemn promise to give it back (eventually, maybe). Banks love it because interest exists.
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.
Anything related to money, currencies, or the financial systems designed to control how much you're allowed to have. Central banks get very excited about this word.
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.