I am most likely to die of a heart attack sitting in my easy chair. I moved to a condo to avoid the most likely causes. No snow to shovel (not that I did since I paid someone to plow the drive and the town does the sidewalks), no cellar to fall down, no trash to have to carry over the icy driveway. I suppose I could still have a bad fall outside, but I try to be careful.
Snow removal, I’d guess. Next most likely: tripping over a cat on the stairs.
Getting stuff down from or putting stuff back up in the attic - most likely bins of holiday decorations. Right now it’s easy, but I can see my coordination and strength declining in a decade or two. Even now when I go up there, I look at the rafters and try to figure out if it’s possible to install a dumb waiter.
Not “job”, per se, but walking down any kind of stairs will likely figure heavily into my accidental death.
Stairs make frequent attempts on my life. I’ve broken 3 bones on stairs (radius, metatarsal, tailbone). I’ve stumbled or outright fallen numerous other times that led to bruises only.
Any kind of ground irregularity is also in the running (hah). Only one broken bone there so far (tripped stepping up on a curb - that was the first broken radius) but too many sprains or near-sprains to count.
Dark, even with the Care Bear? 
I’ve been practicing Tai Chi for like 5 years now. Yeah, even though I’m “young” for Tai Chi. The moves all have different names but I’m pretty sure they all boil down to “Stepping Around Your Lazy Dog.” If I’m going to grow old with pets, it’s a skill I’ll continue to need.
I’m not sure why I fall so well, but it seems time slows down when I fall and I can drop&roll so I don’t get banged up.
I always thought the ideal way to die was while leaving a house of ill repute on my 99th birthday, shot by a jealous husband.
I was thinking of this one as the statistically most likely candidate. Driving to work, or driving doing the parent job of dropping off/picking up one the kids from school or work may well be the end of me one of these days. Maybe I need to follow ZipperJJ’s lead and put a Care Bear somewhere in the car to cheer me in my last moments.
And I also misread the thread title linked in the OP!
Marking term papers. Possibly from a virus transmitted from student to paper to me. Or from an exploding microwave when I forget to take a staple out of a paper that I’m microwaving to kill virus.
Lumberjacking, without a doubt. Lots of dangerous tools/machines in use, and I’m always alone. One small mistake, and I bleed out, to be found sometime later, maybe.
My Mostly-Dachshund nearly killed me the other day. I was going to take him out, and he had his vest on and was ready, but he turned left at the couch to check out the kitchen, while I continued straight to the front door. I called his name, and he came rushing back, made a sharp turn at the dining table, and nearly took my feet out from under me. I think dachshunds have to be in the top ten of elderly lady falling injuries/deaths.
Does pleasuring my wife count?
You think like I think! Alternatively, she could die giving her own, ahem, job (there’s a lockjaw joke somewhere in here, but I’m not going to make it)
I want to be assassinated! Only important people get assassinated. The rest of us are just “killed.”
Alas, I’ll probably keel over in my early 50’s of a massive stroke while composing an email.
Oh, and speaking of dying while fucking:
Just like Nelson Rockefeller ::shudder::
Against all odds, I never broke or fractured a bone until a few years ago. I was getting something off a high shelf. I was wearing socks and standing on a chair with a wooden seat. I lost my balance. In the split second before I fell, I brought my leg up. It connected with the chair’s arm and I broke three toes.
On the upside, when I went to get the toes x-rayed they did my wooden and metal Tri-N-Do-It for free. I’d been stumped on that thing for years.
So, while I’d like to think I go out heroically or peacefully in my bed surrounded by loved ones, the chances are I’ll die trying to get something from a high shelf.
I’ve always wanted to be killed by an exploding toilet. Give people something to laugh about in this dreary world.
Well I sure hope you don’t get killed instantly, because of the opportunity make the call…
“Hello, 9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”
“I’m a lumberjack, and I’m not okay.”
I fall well too, but I can tell you exactly why: I ride a bike, on and off road. Practice makes perfect.
As to the OP, I’m another pending ladder fatality. The problem is, once I get going I don’t mind them too much. I get complacent…
j
I’m a ladder risk too. Now I use the adage ‘Anyone over the age of 50 should never get up a ladder again’.
The other one is the back porch (laundry door). The screen door swings outwards and it’s a very small porch. So when going in, you need to open the door and lean backwards/outwards to give it room. And it’s 3-4 steps down off the porch onto concrete (and the steps are on the side). So if you are rushing, or carrying something or just not paying enough attention it can get tricky. So I’m going to die after putting the rubbish out one day.
At one time it might have been “hanging Christmas lights on the house”, since it involved climbing a ladder onto the roof (which is kind of steep). But I gave that up a few years back. Xmas lights are not worth risking my neck for.
Shoveling snow is a possibility. But I don’t actually “shovel” it, as in getting a shovelful and tossing it aside. I basically just push the snow across the driveway - the shovel never leaves the ground. So my snow-shoveling is more like a vigorous walk.
Does “eating” count as a job? Because I think I’m more likely to die choking on food than doing anything physical.